


Baseball and Bass Guitars

by twistercas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Baseball Player Dean, Daddy Issues, F/M, Fluff, Homophobic John, Homophobic Language, JOHN WINCHESTER IS TRASH, Jock Dean, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Punk Castiel, Rock Star Cas, Rock Star Dean, Rocker Dean, Too much fluff, cain is a sweetheart, cain likes dean a lot, dean and cas start a band
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistercas/pseuds/twistercas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This kind of stuff isn't supposed to happen outside of cheesy romances. And this kind of stuff definitely doesn't happen to Dean Winchester. The high school senior is quiet and reserved, except on the baseball field. Put a baseball in his hand and put him on the pitcher's mound and that boy cannot be stopped. Off the field, Dean is pretty popular. Popularity kind of comes with being the star of the baseball team, but he doesn't care about that. He's not one for popularity and labels and caring what other people think of him. Kind of like Castiel. </p><p>Castiel Novak. Bad boy, bad ass, just all around bad; nobody messes with him. He's the kind of guy that everyone knows of, but doesn't actually know. With his disheveled, jet black hair, tattoos, and leather jacket, he's a bit of an intimidating sight. But you know what they say, don't judge a book by it's cover. And Dean was never one to judge. </p><p>The two boys find themselves thrust into a situation of the most unexpected kind and, well, to put it simply and as cliche as possible; their lives were never the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Simple Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I've been writing on my Wattpad account (@/twistercas) and I figured I put it up on here too, as my first story.

Baseball may be America's favorite pastime, and without a doubt there's nothing Dean Winchester loves more than the crack of his bat or the thump of the little white ball hitting the leather of his glove, but for Christ's sake, four hours is waay too long for a friggin baseball practice. Especially on a Friday night. 

"I swear, Coach is completely insane." Benny Lafitte laments with a groan, bending backwards and slightly to the side to stretch his back. Benny is Carver High's catcher and Dean's best friend. "I mean, four bloody hours we've been here Dean!" The boy says with a slight southern accent, a memento of his childhood in the south. His tone is dripping in disbelief and his expression is one to match. 

Dean lets out a snort and shakes his head at his best friend. "Ever the drama queen, Benny boy." 

"Ah shut it Winchester."

Dean just laughs as Benny punches his shoulder, though lightly. The two friends drag themselves off the field and into the dirt floored dug-out, followed by the rest of the team. 

"Alright boys! Good practice!" Coach Zachariah Milton gushes enthusiastically. Coach Milton also happens to be the math teacher at the high school; he has a reputation with the students for being the only math teacher in the history of ever to actually make class relatively fun. "So same time tomorrow, what do ya think boys?"

As an answer, the entirety of the varsity baseball team lets out a groan, bringing a burst of laughter from the much too energetic coach. "Kidding boys, kidding!" He grins.

His statement only brings out more groans. "Coaach!" The shortstop, Ash Richardson, whines. "Don't even joke with us Coach, we're beat."

While their coach just chuckles at the boy's comment, Dean and Benny pat Ash's back sympathetically.

"Seriously though boys, you practiced well today. Go home, get some rest, socialize. Just don't party too hard, remember our first game is next week." Coach Milton sends his team off with a wave of his hand and turns back to his clipboard. 

Too exhausted to do anything but drag their equipment and walk slowly, the boys make their way across the school grounds and into the locker rooms. Soon, the hot water and steam of the showers wakes everyone up and the team regains their youthful energy. 

"Dean!" Dean turns from shoving his equipment into his locker to find Benny and their other friend, Garth, making their way towards him. Garth Fitzgerald is the skinny but tall center fielder for the Carver Angels. 

"There's a party tomorrow night, at Lisa's house. You'll be there right?" Garth asks Dean enthusiastically, though with slight apprehension. Lisa Braeden; popular, gorgeous, and Dean's ex- girlfriend. They dated for two years, breaking up just half way through last year when Lisa finally got Dean to pay attention to his feelings and helped him come out. 

"Garth, we're good." Dean says, talking about the other boy's nervousness at mentioning Lisa. "And sure, I'll make an appearance." It's kind of an obligation, attending parties like that, when you're as popular as Dean.

Honestly though, Dean hates the popularity. He hates the pressure, the expectations, the judgment. He wants to walk down the hall and not have everyone watch him, waiting for a wrong move, for something people can gossip about. Not that people normally gossip about him; that ended last year when he came out in front of the entire baseball team. To his surprise, not one of his friends gave two shits that he was gay (Benny had said with a smirk that he's guessed it all along), and so Dean took to not caring about any of the whispers in the hall or the glances during class. But, when there's eyes on you at all times, and you have this ridiculous obligation as the star pitcher of your high school baseball team to act cool all the time, it's kind of easier to just go with the flow. But there's a side to Dean, parts of his personality that no one, except Benny, knows about. They don't know about his love for music, or his car, or his baby brother. They don't care that he can sing like nobody's business or that he's pretty good at Guitar Hero. They certainly don't care that he can sing every word to Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody by heart, or that his music of choice is a good classic rock beat. All they care about is the number of strikes he throws in a game. 

But Dean never confesses his wish to not be noticed, so he just grins and nods, confirming his presence at a party that will most likely be filled with drunk, hormone crazed teenagers going wild and breaking things.

"Great!" Garth practically shouts before embracing Dean in a totally unnecessary bear hug. Dean let's out a surprised huff at the sudden impact while Benny just laughs at Dean's discomfort.

"Yea sure, Garth." He pats the skinny boy's back and carefully detaches himself. 

While they were talking, the rest of the baseball team had finished up and left the locker room. Garth and Benny follow close behind, slinging their bags over their shoulders and excitedly talking about tomorrow night's party. 

With a sigh, Dean strips off his dirt filled baseball pants and t-shirt and heads towards the shower with a towel slung over his shoulder. "Boys better not have used up the hot water." He grumbles to himself. 

To his delight, the water flows down in a warm current, washing the sweat and grime from his body. He stays in the shower for a few minutes after washing down, closing his eyes and enjoying the steady, relaxing stream of warmth against his chest. Finally, he shuts off the water and grabs his towel, running it quickly over his body before wrapping it around his waist.

He sings a soft tune to himself, not really paying attention to what it is he's singing while he walks out of the showers. Dean enjoys the silence of the empty locker room, it's a much needed rest from the constant chattering of his team mates. How ever much he loves those boys, they can drive him crazy. 

"Lynyrd Skynyrd, huh?" A low, unfamiliar voice stops the next line from leaving Dean's lips and he turns around in shock. 

Dean's green eyes widen as he takes in the boy standing in front of him. He recognizes him, Castiel Novak, notorious leather clad bad boy. Known for his sleek, black (and Dean has to admit, pretty sexy) motorcycle and this bad habit of skipping classes. Though now that he thinks about it, Dean has only one class with this guy and he's almost always there, which really doesn't support that skipping class fact. 

Cas, as Dean has heard people call him, raises one eyebrow in a questioning expression. His shockingly blue eyes are ringed with subtle eyeliner and they sparkle as if he knows a secret. Against his will, Dean's eyes travel down Cas' body, taking in the leather jacket over a white t-shirt, the black skinny jeans tucked into combat boots, and Dean unwillingly admits to himself that despite what everyone says about this boy, Castiel Novak is gorgeous. 

"Hello?" Dean wrenches his eyes up and feels his cheeks flush red when he stares straight into that sea of blue. Cas has one eyebrow raised as he leans lazily against a locker. A smirk grows on his pierced lips and Dean watches, slightly stunned, as Cas' eyes travel up and down Dean's body. Dean remembers with a jolt that he has nothing but a towel on and suddenly becomes self- conscious, gripping the towel tighter around him. 

"Sorry, uh, what?" He stutters, flustered. Why can't I think straight!? Dean thinks to himself, frustrated at his reaction to Cas. Really, he can't be attracted to this boy. And yet...

Cas' smirk grows wider and Dean shifts slightly as Cas blatantly checks him out, eyes taking in every bit of him. "I said 'Lynyrd Skynyrd'. That's what you were singing wasn't it?" He asks, knowing full well that it was.

"You know Lynyrd Skynyrd?" Dean asks, surprised enough to forget those blue eyes wandering over his body. He had, in fact, been singing a Lynyrd Skynyrd song. "Simple Man", to be exact. 

Cas scoffs and drags his eyes back up to meet Dean's. "Yes I know them. What, doesn't fit my rep?" He adds, a bit sourly. 

Dean's eyebrows scrunch together in slight confusion at Cas' tone. "Sorry, man. And yea, I guess I didn't expect you to know that kind of music."

"I could say the same for you, Winchester. Figured you'd be a Top 40's or rap kinda guy."

Dean can't help the indignant noise that escapes from his lips. "What's that supposed to mean?" Dean doesn't really hate a lot of things, but one of the few things he does hate is rap music and shitty pop.

"Nothin'." Cas shrugs, indifferent to Dean's obviously offended expression. 

"Well, you might want to find a new expectation from me because obviously your assumptions are wrong. How do you know me anyway?" Dean doesn't care if this boy is one of the most attractive guys he's ever seen in his life, he's a presumptuous asshole. 

"How could I not know you. You're Dean Winchester. Gorgeous, popular, baseball star, Almighty King of Carver High." Cas keeps his tone light and airy, almost teasing, but Dean can't help but catch a slight edge of bitterness to it. 

Dean, for some totally unknown reason, chooses to ignore almost everything Cas just said. Except one word, gorgeous. Dean knows he's fairly attractive, sure, he's just never really seen himself as anything more than average. He normally brushes off any compliment given to him about his looks, and that's why it's so strange when his brain chooses to latch onto that one word, casually thrown from those frustratingly perfect lips. 

With an unexpected rush, Dean suddenly feels inexplicably confident, his previous insecurities about being almost naked in front of a handsome stranger gone. "Did you just call me gorgeous?" He questions, voice lowering slightly against his control. He takes a step forward and Cas abruptly straightens up, no longer leaning against a locker. 

"I did." Cas answers simply. He slips a hand into his pocket and cocks his head, a smirk playing across his features again. "Don't you know it, Winchester?"

"Nah." Dean waves his hand nonchalantly, trying to seem as though Cas isn't affecting him with those stupid blue eyes and tight shirt against an obviously toned stomach. "I'm not so gorgeous, Novak."

Cas' carefully controlled expression seems to slip for a moment, showing a flash of what could be surprise or confusion and Dean isn't sure if he's surprised at Dean's knowledge of his name or the fact that Dean doesn't believe himself gorgeous. "Oh but you are, freckles." Referencing the smattering of light brown dots covering Dean's face.

Dean feels his face flush red at the comment, something that seems to be happening a lot, talking to Cas. "So, you like Lynyrd Skynyrd?" Dean chooses to move the conversation in a different direction, because hearing these unexpected compliments from Castiel Novak of all people is making him slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it's the way Cas holds himself, with an air of confidence, like nothing can bring him down. Or maybe it's the way those blue, eyeliner ringed eyes seem to pierce Dean's very skin, or the way Cas' white t-shirt clings perfectly to his body underneath his jacket as he takes a step closer to Dean, or maybe it's the way he runs his hand through that tousled black hair, hair that Dean has a very strange urge to reach out and pull his fingers through. Whatever it is, it's driving Dean crazy and he needs something to distract him. Like a topic change. 

If Cas is startled by Dean's sudden change in topic, he doesn't show it. "Yea I like Lynyrd Skynryd. They're pretty fuckin' brilliant." His tone is tinted with a sort of passion that surprises Dean, he hadn't expected Cas to be a classic rock kind of guy. 

"That they are." Dean nods his head in agreement. "Something about classic rock makes everything else seem dull. Zeppelin, AC/DC, Metallica, Aerosmith. These modern artists don't got jack shit on them."

"God, tell me about it." Cas sighs. "I heard you singing 'Simple Man' earlier. I got curious and came in to see who it was. You can imagine my surprise when it was the one and only, Dean Winchester. Who'd have thought you'd have a pretty voice to match that pretty face."

Once again, Castiel manages to make Dean blush, a feat that not many others have accomplished and the fact that Cas is having such an effect on Dean is frustrating to him. "Yea well, I like to sing I guess. It calms me down." He rubs the back his neck, looking down at the floor.

"You got a pretty good voice, Winchester. Keep it up." At that, a ringing erupts from Cas' jacket pocket. He pulls out his phone and with a glance towards Dean, answers it.

Dean stands there in his towel, not sure what to do as Cas begins to speak to the person on the other side of the phone. Dean wants to get out of this dripping towel, to change into his clothes. But there's a big difference between changing in front of your team mates and changing in front of a guy you've only technically just met today. Especially if said guy is frustratingly attractive and somehow manages to constantly make Dean flustered. So, Dean has nothing to do but listen.

"What?" Cas answers. "Dude, slow the fuck down I can't hear a damn thing you're saying. Are you fuckin' drunk!?" He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "Can't you just- alright fine. I said fine! Christ, chill I'm on my way." Cas hangs up the cell with an angry jab at the screen. He turns to Dean, an expression that looks almost like disappointment on his face. "Sorry. My dumb ass brother went and got himself in a bar fight. Again. I'm going to pick him up." He cocks his head in an almost unsure way. "To be continued?" He says, surprising Dean.

Dean barely has time to nod his head yes before Cas has disappeared from the locker room, leaving Dean with still wet hair and an inexplicably happy feeling in his chest. 

Still slightly in shock over his brief and very unexpected exchange with Castiel, Dean pulls on his street clothes and shoves his practice clothes into a bag. When he leaves the locker room with the bag slung over his shoulder, he begins to think of Cas. 'To be continued', he had said. What does that mean? Cas wants to talk to him again? Castiel Novak, the boy with a reputation for being a total ass and not giving a shit about anything or anyone, wants to talk to Dean again. Cas was uncharacteristically nice to him, and the way he watched Dean, well let's just say that those blue eyes were doing things to Dean that made him think some things that would definitely get him kicked out of church. Dean used to think that Cas was bad news, someone he should avoid at all costs. But now, he's not so sure.

So that night, when Dean Winchester is lying in bed with the lights all out and the rest of the house asleep, he thinks of Cas. He thinks of the tight, black clothes, of the little silver piercing on his pretty lips, of the tattoos just barely noticeable underneath the white of Cas' t-shirt, but most of all, he thinks of those eyes. It's easy to get lost in eyes like that. So that's what Dean does, he let's himself get lost in the deep, deep blue. And the last thing he sees as he drifts off into a peaceful slumber is that boy, a boy with a face like an angel but a reputation like the Devil. But what's in his heart? Is what Dean wonders; and he has an unexpectedly strong desire to find out.


	2. You Shook Me All Night Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm making Dean and Cas eighteen in this story (since they're seniors), but I'm making Sam sixteen instead of fourteen (which would be his age if I went with the normal 4 year gap between him and Dean) because I want Sam to talk and act older in some ways than a fourteen year old would.

"DEAN! HEY DEAN! ELLEN'S MAKING PANCAKES." 

"Damn it, Sammy, go away I'm asleep." With a groan, Dean pulls the bed covers over his head and tries to block out his younger brother's voice. He had just woken up from a very good dream, but all Dean can remember was a pair of blue eyes... and it's gone. 

"Nuh, uh, Dean. It's Ellen's pancakes man, you'll regret it if you miss them."

Dean huffs a resigned sigh into his pillow, knowing Sam's right. He drags his body out of bed, sore from last night's practice. With a small smile, Dean looks at his little brother. And even though he had the audacity to wake Dean up on a Saturday morning at eight o'clock, he can't stay angry at that puppy dog face. "Bitch." He says, affectionately, to the shaggy haired sixteen year old, while simultaneously trying to smack him with his pillow. 

"JERK!" Sam yells, dodging the pillow and running from Dean's bedroom, laughing the entire way.

Dean chuckles at his little brother and then, with a wistful and almost longing look down at his bed, he drags himself up and heads for the bathroom, figuring that Ellen's pancakes are worth leaving the warmth. 

Ever since Dean and Sam's mom died and their dad went a-wall when Dean was eleven and Sammy was nine, they've been raised by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Bobby Singer had been a close friend to John and Mary and was like an uncle to the boys. Ellen's husband, before he passed away in a hunting accident, knew John as well. It was by a huge act of chance or fate or whatever you believe in that Ellen and Bobby met at the reading of Mary's will, and fell in love. Funny that something so happy should come out of a tragedy. Now, years later, they're married and raising three kids. The third one being Jo, Ellen's daughter, who is Sam's age.

Dean looks at his reflection in the mirror, looks at the green eyes and the light hair, all courtesy of his mother, and thinks about how, despite how much he misses his mom and wishes he got to spend more time with her, he is so very grateful for Bobby and Ellen. He couldn't ask for better parents.

After brushing his teeth and splashing some water on his face, Dean heads downstairs, the smell of pancakes getting stronger as he goes.

"Hey, Ellen." Dean greets his surrogate mother with a side armed hug and a quick kiss as she works at the stove. 

On his way to grab a plate, he passes Sam and reaches out a hand to muss up his younger brother's hair, earning a noise of protest uttered around a mouthful of food. 

Just then, in scampers Jo, blonde hair swinging behind her and a wide grin plastered on her face. "Mornin' dumbass!" She says affectionately, poking Dean in the side. Classic Jo Harvelle good morning. 

Dean scoffs, "Hey, I may be dumb but at least I'm hot." He teases. 

"Says the only single person in the room."

"Shut your cake hole Sammy."

"It's pie hole Dean!"

"It's whatever the hell I want it to be!" 

"Boys! Quit yer bickering" A gruff voice scolds from the doorway. The two brothers and an amused looking Jo turn to greet Bobby as he enters the room, hands greasy from working in the garage. 

Despite his tone, there's a smile playing on his lips. like he loves listening to their brotherly bantering. "As hilarious as your conversations can be, why don't you tone the teasing down for so early in the morning."

The boys nod sheepishly and turn back to their pancakes. Dean drowns his in syrup, Ellen scolds him and mutters something about diabetes, Jo accidentally spills her orange juice, and Sammy just sits back and laughs. Typical family breakfast.

Twenty minutes later, Dean manages to excuse himself from the table just as Jo and Sam begin to fight over the last pancake. Narrowly dodging a flying napkin, Dean heads to the front door, grabs his jacket and pulls it on over an olive green t-shirt. The jacket is an old leather thing, one of two things his dad left behind when he disappeared that day. The second being his black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, one of the damn sexiest cars Dean has ever seen in his life. Maybe he's biased, but Baby, as he calls her, sure is fine. Dean admires her once again as he leaves the front porch and heads down the drive, past the old sign reading "Singer's Auto." One of the perks to having a stand in father who's a mechanic is gaining an extensive knowledge of cars and how they work. Bobby and Dean, when Dean was fifteen, rebuilt the Impala; fixing it from an accident in which John totaled the car when he was drunk one night. For years after John left, the car stayed ruined, but Dean finally figured that even though he still has bitter feelings towards his father, that doesn't mean he can't own a nice set of wheels. So, Bobby helped him fix her up, and she's been Dean's most prized possession ever since. 

Once Dean starts up the car, drinking in the purr of her engine, he heads out towards town. His destination is a place not many kids his age know about, and that's why he loves it. A cafe, nestled between a book store and an old run down record store, three of his favorite places on earth. He found the quaint little cafe, called the Riverside Blues Cafe after a Led Zeppelin song, when he was walking around town one day. What caught his attention was the music drifting through the open doors, he had gone in to investigate and was surprised to find an open mic night in full swing. A young woman was singing up on the tiny stage at the back of the cafe, swinging to the beat of Van Halen's "Jump." So, when the owner, a kind woman by the name of Missouri, spotted him hanging by the door, he automatically took her up on her offer of good coffee and great music. He kept coming back after that, something about the place always seemed to enchant him. Day after day, night after night, Dean sat and talked and laughed and rocked out with the kind people he met at the Riverside Blues Cafe, then one especially rowdy night, he was dragged up on stage. And with his normally shy outer shell cracked, he sang and sang, shocking the entire room with his secret talent. So, whenever Dean wants to unwind and relax, he heads over to the cafe where Missouri is always glad to hand him a free coffee in exchange for a song.

Today seems to be one of those days for Dean, he needs to relax, to clear his mind of a certain blue eyed, messy haired boy. A boy who, for some completely unknown reason, has not left Dean's mind for more than a few minutes since last night. The twenty minute drive into town is spent with music blasting from the speakers and a very frustrated Dean trying is damn hardest not to think of this guy he only really met yesterday. 

Dean parks his car alongside the street and heads back towards the cafe, throwing the door open with a grin and a laugh as everyone in the place turns and shouts their greetings.

"Hey brotha!" Benny shouts from one corner, his southern drawl making Dean grin. Benny is the only one of Dean's friends, the only one, who has the same interests as him, at least sort of. Benny was always wondering where Dean spent his nights, instead of partying with the rest of the popular kids, so Dean finally caved and brought him to Riverside. Benny loved the place as soon as he walked in the door and spends almost as much time there now as Dean does. It's actually where Benny met his girlfriend, Andrea Kormos. She caught Benny's eye with a flip of her brown hair and a shy smile on her beautiful face, and he's been hooked ever since. 

Dean heads over towards his best friend, throwing out greetings to people as he goes. Benny gets up and wraps him in a bear hug as soon as Dean reaches the table where Benny is sitting with Andrea. Andrea gives Dean a small smile and a wave, glancing up briefly from her conversation with Pamela Barnes. Pamela, simply put, is a wild child. Always up for a bar fight or a bar dance, depending on her mood. Today seems one of her calmer days as her greeting only consists of shouting Dean's name and playfully grabbing his ass during a hug, surprisingly one of the less intense ways she's chosen to greet him.

"Hey guys." Dean grins, sliding into the chair next to Pamela. "How's the music been today?"

Benny lets out a laugh, throwing his head back. "Is that all you think about Winchester? Music?"

No, not all...

Dean just shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders, smiling sheepishly.

"Alright," Benny starts, "considering it's noon on a Saturday, ya'lll can probably assume that the crowd isn't exactly jumpin' right now. Not that it really ever is."

Benny has a point and Dean has to agree. Riverside isn't exactly a social hot spot among teens (or anyone for that matter), it's pretty obscure and almost no one knows about it. It's one of the reasons Dean loves the place so much, it's where he can be himself. 

"Besides," Pamela adds, "we were waiting for you to show up and grace us all with your pretty voice."

Dean blushes slightly, he gets a lot of compliments on his voice, but that doesn't mean he's used to them. "Not today, Pam. I just came for the coffee and the conversation. Besides I'm going to that party tonight, I gotta save my energy." He adds the last part jokingly.

Pam rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out. "Oh yea right like you even party that hard, Winchester."

Dean just shrugs and laughs. "Hey, you never know what could happen!"

-:-:-:-

God damn it, this is why I don't do parties.

Dean elbows his way through the crowd of teenagers, holding his drink above his head as an especially rowdy couple knocks into his side. The girl laughs the loud kind of laugh that only comes from drunks and grabs her boyfriend's hand, dragging him off to do God knows what. Dean rolls his eyes and pushes towards the edge of the room, near the stairs. With a huge sigh he leans against the wall, taking in the scene in front of him. 

Why did I agree to this? Dean wonders to himself, pushing back against the wall to avoid a flying pillow. Two hours, he's only been here two hours and he's already about to leave. He had been hanging out with Benny, Garth, Pam, and Andrea until about half an hour ago, when Benny and Andrea got roped into playing beer pong, Garth ran off to join spin the bottle, and Pam decided to go dance on a table with some guy she didn't even know.

With a huff, Dean pushes off from the wall, taking a drink from the plastic cup in his hand. Dean doesn't drink, for reasons that he hasn't told anyone, so all that's in the cup is Coca Cola. Dean swings around the banister of a staircase, planning on heading upstairs to escape the commotion, but before he can make it, a body is pushed into him and they both go tumbling down. Dean lands hard on the bottom step, sitting with some guy's body splayed on top of him. 

"Ah fuck." 

Wait. Dean recognizes that voice, just vaguely.

"Cas?" Dean asks tentatively as the black- clad boy pushed himself up and settles down next to Dean. 

"Heya Winchester." Castiel Novak grins at Dean, pushing his messy, dyed black hair away from his face. "Sorry about that, some drunk fucker pushed me." He waves his hand towards the crowd in front of them. 

Dean laughs nodding is head. "It's alright, no harm done." He lets out a sigh, glancing to Cas and his blue eyes before turning away and looking back at the room. "I was just headed upstairs, needed to get away from this for a bit." 

"Ditto actually." Cas laughs. "My friend dragged me here, I honestly was not planning on coming to this party until she showed up with a bottle of vodka yelling about some party at Lisa Braeden's house."

Dean snorts. "Yea." He gets up, brushing invisible dirt off of his old blue jeans and looks up towards the quiet of the upper room.

Next to him, Cas stands as well, Dean feels the brush of cool leather against his bare shoulder as they stand side by side, both looking up.

"C'mon." Cas says, nodding his head towards the top of the stairs. He turns to grin at Dean while the latter just kind of stares with a surprised look in his green eyes. Cas sighs, "Winchester, I thought you were sick of this? Now c'mon!"

Dean, slightly in a daze, follows the blue eyed boy up the stairs and into a random room. For a second, he stands in the doorway of the bedroom, sparing a single thought for the fact that he has just left a party, with a guy, and is now in a bedroom with said guy. The thought disappears as he watches Castiel settle comfortably onto the edge of the bed, folding his long legs underneath him. He looks at Dean, cocking his head slightly, and Dean definitely doesn't notice the way Cas' hair manages to be both messy and perfect, or the way those cheeks are flushed the perfect shade of pink, and he definitely doesn't notice the way those eyeliner- framed, blue eyes are studying him. Dean clears his throat, shaking his head and wrenching himself from his thoughts. Not sure if he should sit next to Cas or not, he decides to walk instead. He walks towards the dresser on one side of the room, picking up a picture frame. The picture is of a group of kids; Lisa, Benny, Dean himself, Garth, Andrea, and Anna Milton. "This is Lisa's room." Dean states, a fact that he had known before even picking up the picture. He had been in this room before, while he and Lisa were dating. 

"Figured it was." Cas smirks. "Considering the pink flowers." He gestures to the flowered wallpaper and the matching bed sheets.

Dean lets out a laugh and shrugs. "Good point." 

"So why don't you like parties, Winchester? Figured you'd be all for them."

"Why? Because I'm a 'popular jock' or whatever?" 

"Well yea."

Dean turns and looks at Cas, smiling a little. "Didn't we establish last night that neither of us really fit our stereotypes?" 

"Hey," Cas laughs. "Just because you've got a good taste in music doesn't mean you break every other stereotype."

Dean rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the bed, sitting next to Cas but leaning back against one of the bed posts. "What about you then? Why'd you come to this party? If we're going by stereotypes then you should be hanging out in some abandoned building smoking pot with your friends." 

Cas laughs out loud, throwing his head back. "Touche. Naw man, I don't actually smoke. My sort of friends do, I don't."

Dean is slightly surprised at his answer, but come to think of it, he had never seen Cas with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, quite unlike the people he hangs with. 

"Alright, so stereotypes are bullshit. Wha-"

"Wait shh!" Dean starts when Cas holds up a finger, shushing him. The black haired boy stands and makes his way to the door, which had somehow closed halfway. He opens the door with a laugh and turns back to Dean. "Hey, they're playing our music, Winchester."

Dean, who had already been walking towards the door, leans against the door frame and looks down the hall. He lets out a laugh when he hears the song seeping up the staircase. "You, shook me aall niight long!"

"I love this song." Dean laughs again, turning until his back his pressed against the door frame; he leans his head back against the wood and looks at Cas, meeting his eyes. Cas is watching him, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Dean can't help but stare as the other boy pulls on that little, silver lip piercing on his bottom lip and rolls it between his teeth. 

Dean takes a deep breath as his eyes travel back up to Cas', finding them already locked on his face. "Cas."

"Hm?" 

"Why do you keep staring at me?" Dean doesn't know why he said it, and mentally smacks himself for doing so. But he's genuinely curious, why in the world a guy like Castiel Novak even bothered noticing him. He lets out a breathy, embarrassed sigh. "Sorry! Wow uh-"

"Because I think you're hot." Cas arches an eyebrow.

"I didn't mean to- wait what?" Dean's apologizes stammer to a halt and he wrenches his eyes up from the floor and meets Cas' once again.

"I said, I think you're hot." He takes a step closer to Dean, an action that puts them only inches apart. 

Dean shifts against the door frame, acutely aware of the heat rolling off of Cas' body. His eyes, against his will, travel down Cas' body, studying him. "I'm not." He breathes out.

"You're not what? Not hot?"

Dean nods in response.

Cas let's out a disbelieving laugh. "Dean," Somewhere in the back of Dean's mind he notices that this is the first time Cas hasn't called him Winchester. "Dean, you're frustratingly hot."

Dean's lips part in surprise at Cas' words, he hadn't thought Cas could think the same thing about him that he has been thinking about Cas since last night. "Cas did you even notice me until you heard me singing last night?"

"Did I even-" Cas let's out a breathy laugh and runs his fingers through his dyed hair, taking another half step towards Dean. "You know there's that thing that everyone says about me? That I never go to class? It's partly true. I only go to classes that I think have some value to me. Educational or, uh, otherwise."

"Yea?"

"We have one class together Dean, algebra. And any kid in their right mind could see that that class has no fucking educational value what so ever."

"So why do you go?" Dean asks quietly, already anticipating the answer.

"Because you're in that class."

"But why-" Dean stops and chuckles. "I thought you thought I was some dumb jock that fit every stereotype?"

"Hey, I may have thought that before but that doesn't mean I don't think you're hot, Freckles."

"So you suffer through the embodiment of hell that is algebra class because you think I'm hot."

"To put it simply, yea." 

"You're an enigma, Castiel." Cas laughs at that and leans just a tad bit closer to Dean, who bites his lip. "And just so you don't feel totally left out, you've got an okay body too."

"Oh, you flatter me Winchester. It's just okay?"

"So what if I think you're hot too?" Dean cocks his head. "What would it mean, huh?" Suddenly serious, Dean looks at the ground. "I mean, we'll probably leave this party, go our separate ways, and never talk again right?" He can't help but say that last part with a hint of hope in his voice, hope that Cas will disagree, that he'll shake his head and say 'wrong'. 

"Is that what you want? To never talk again?" Cas asks, brows furrowing together and teeth worrying that lip piercing again. Dean can't help but wonder how it would feel to kiss Cas, piercing and all. 

"No." Dean states simply, locking his green eyes onto Cas' blue ones.

"Good." Cas breathes out, a slightly mischievous smile on his face. "Because I don't want that either. I don't know why, God knows I don't, but for some reason I don't think I'll ever want to stop talking to you Winchester." He cringes at that. "God, that sounded cheesy, ignore that."

Dean laughs and hesitantly reaches out a hand, gripping Cas' waist and gently pulling him closer. "No, I don't think I will." Cas' mischievous smile is back and he cocks his head, studying Dean's face. He puts one hand up on the door frame next to Dean's head and leans in close, lips barely half an inch from Dean's. 

"What if I said I wanted to do more than just talk to you?" 

Dean bites his lip. "I'd say go for it."

And with that, Cas' other hand is cupping Dean's face, their lips crashing together and bodies pulled flush. Dean's hand grips tighter on Cas' waist, feeling the outline of his sharp hipbone through the black material of his shirt; the other calloused hand travels up, tangling in that black hair. Dean bites back a sigh as he feels the cold metal of that stupid piercing against his own lips. Cas lets out a moan as Dean pulls his hair and, feeling bold, Dean pushes his tongue into the other boy's mouth, earning another moan from Cas and inhaling sharply at the cold feeling of a tongue piercing he didn't know was there. Dean had no idea until this moment that just the feeling of a metal piercing against his mouth could be so arousing.The boys pull apart only to catch their breath, their foreheads pressed together and grips tight in each other's hair. The door frame behind him is digging into Dean's back but he could care less as Cas grins, pulling Dean down for another kiss.

"Shiit." Cas breathes out when they break apart again, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

"What?" Dean questions, sliding his other hand down to Cas' waist and using both hands to pull him even closer. 

"Jesus, fuck. I was not expecting that."

"What?" Dean practically whines. Did he do something wrong?

Cas chuckles at Dean's urgent tone. "Just- that was fucking awesome."

Dean's eyes widen slightly, surprised at the comment. He reaches a hand up to Cas' lips and lightly runs his fingers over them. He feels the smirk that forms on those lips and he laughs. "Yea." He agrees. "Awesome."

Cas looks at him, with an intensity that jolts Dean. The blue eyed boy lightly kisses Deans fingers before the latter pulls away, and then rests a hand on one side of Dean's face. 

"What?" Dean asks, inquiring at the look Cas is giving him. 

"Nothing. Just really glad I went to this party." 

Dean grins. "Because the music is so great right?" He teases.

Cas pulls back and plasters a thoughtful look on his face. "You know what? I think it was the music. Top 40 really gets me all hot and bothered."

Dean lets out a snort. "Mmm yea. Bieber's got it going on." 

"Oh Christ, too far man."

Dean shrugs sheepishly, still grinning and not the least bit sorry. "Hey, I-"

His next comment is cut off by a surprised laugh coming from the top of the staircase. "Oh my god!"

Oh, shit. Dean and Cas spring apart, but while Dean automatically gets nervous and rigid, Cas just leans lazily against the other side of the door frame, totally unconcerned about being discovered. 

"Well now, this is unexpected." Pamela Barnes drawls, waggling her eyebrows cheekily. "Didn't realize you liked your boys bad, Dean." 

"Shut it, Pam."

"Hey, don't get your panties all in a twist boy, do whatever the hell you want. I don't give a damn. I'm just gonna calmly continue my search for a bathroom that doesn't have vomit everywhere and you two can continue your secret, hot make out sesh." Pamela flips her hair over her shoulder with a grin and a little wave towards Cas, who raises an eyebrow before casually returning the wave. With a laugh, she saunters off down the hall leaving Dean and Cas alone again.

"She's something." Cas states as Dean turns back to him, groaning and running a hand through his light brown hair. 

Dean scoffs. "Yea. Something." He looks to Cas, wondering what the hell he's supposed to do now.

Cas' lips quirk up on one side in a small smile. "You keep looking at me like that, Freckles, and we might have to put that bed to good use."

Dean's mouth drops wide open in shock and he feels his cheeks flush red. Cas laughs and laughs so hard that he has to double over at the waist and clutch his sides. "Relaax! I believe in first dates before I rip someone's clothes off."

Dean snaps his mouth shut and rolls his eyes, he reaches out a hand and pushes Cas' shoulder. "You ass." He smiles though and can't help the small part of him that almost wishes Cas would follow through on that comment. 

"Yes, I am, thank you." Cas grins cockily. His hand reaches out and grips the front of Dean's old, brown leather jacket and pulls him closer. "About that first date though..."

"You really want to?" Dean is still surprised, honestly, that Cas is actually interested in him.

"'Course I do." He grins up at Dean. "Tomorrow?"

"Eager aren't you?" Dean chuckles.

"Hey, I like you Freckles, and I'm not afraid to admit that I want to hang out more." 

"I'm flattered. Tomorrow works. Only it has to be later because I'm doing something in the afternoon."

"Is that so? And what if I want to keep you all day and night?" Cas raises an eyebrow, obviously joking around.

"Mmm sorry, I'm already booked. You have some competition." Dean plays along. 

Cas scoffs. "Nothing can compete with this." He steps back and gestures to himself, grinning when Dean laughs.

"Whatever you say, Novak."

"Glad you agree." He says, earning an eye roll from Dean. Suddenly, Cas slips a hand into Dean's back pocket and whips out his cell phone. "Hey!" Dean yelps.

"Shush." Cas says simply, swiping a hand across the screen and raising an eyebrow when he finds it locked. "Damn it, Winchester." Dean laughs and holds out a hand, motioning for Cas to hand him the phone, which he does sighing. Dean quickly enters the pass code and tosses the phone back to Cas, but leans over his shoulder to watch what he's doing.

He smiles slightly as Cas punches in his cell number, entering himself in as just 'Cas'. "Text me so I have your number too." Cas orders as he hands Dean his phone.

"Yes, sir." Dean says in response to Cas' demanding tone, his words bring a smirk to Cas' lips. Dean ignores the look as he types a quick text to Cas, hearing the boy's phone ding in his pocket. 

Before he can slip his own phone back into the pocket of his jeans, it begins to ring. He glances at Cas who laughs as 'We Will Rock You' begins to play. "Shut up" Dean laughs before answering the phone.

"Hello?" 

"Dude where the fuck are you, man?" Benny's voice seeps through the speaker, his southern drawl even thicker because of alcohol.

"Benny I'm still at the party, where are you?"

"In the kitchen man, I've been looking for you for like ever. Rea and I need a ride home." Rea being Andrea. "We're hammered man."

"No shit, Benny, I can tell." He sighs and leans his head against the door frame, looking at Cas. "Alright, just hang there, I'll be down in a sec."

He hangs up the phone with another sigh, but smiles as he feels a hand on his waist. He turns to meet a pair of blue eyes and Cas smiles softly. "Party's over, huh?" Cas asks, sounding rather disappointed.

"Unfortunately." Dean lets out an un-amused laugh. "My best friend and his girlfriend both managed to get completely hammered. At least he had the sense to ask for a ride." 

"Mmm, yea." Cas hums, leaning towards Dean, who smiles. Their lips brush together before Cas deepens the kiss, making it slow and sweet this time.

Cas breaks away before Dean has enough, but the blue eyed boy leans in to kiss him again quickly. "I'll call you." Cas states simply.

Dean only has time to nod before Cas is gone, throwing a smile over his shoulder as he goes. 

Dean lets out a sigh and leans against the door frame, laughing slightly. "Whoa." He says out loud. Did that even just happen?

Dean makes his way down to the kitchen, grabbing Benny and Andrea, and driving them home in the Impala as fast as possible, thinking the whole way that the entire night was just a brilliant dream and tomorrow he'd wake up to face the cold, hard reality.


	3. Laugh, I Nearly Died

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was gonna call," Cas explains. "I was actually planning on calling at the exact moment I saw your car outside here. And I haven't told you what we're doing because it's a surprise and I hope to God you like surprise because if not than my whole plan just went to shit, and," Cas continues over Dean's laughter, "it is tonight but it technically takes like two hours to get there." 
> 
> Dean's eyebrows raise and he studies Cas suspiciously. Cas smiles at him playfully, daring him to spoil the fun by saying he won't go. "Okay." Dean is curious, he has to go. Plus there's no way in hell he would turn down a chance to spend more time near Cas. "Just let me let a few people know what's going on." With that, he turns away from Cas and heads off to find Missouri.

It wasn't a cold, hard reality that Dean wakes up to, thankfully, more like the warmth of cotton sheets and of memories flooding back. Obviously the latter is much more preferred. He thinks of the events of the previous night, wondering how in the hell any of it even happened. Castiel Novak. The name bounces through his mind like the ball in a pin ball machine. Castiel Novak; dark haired, blue eyed, beautiful, untouchable, bad boy, intimidating. But at the same time, he's just a boy; just a normal boy who isn't so bad as he likes people to think, isn't so invincible, or "high and mighty." Last night, Dean began to see through the cracks in the shield Cas has built up around himself and what shone through was the light of a boy who seems just as beautiful on the inside as he is outside. Dean buries his freckled face into his pillow, huffing out a sigh as he thinks about everything.

"Shit." He mutters. Dean has barely spoken to the guy, he shouldn't be so into him. And yet, as the brown haired boy drags himself out of bed and treks downstairs, the one thing he's thinking of is the one thing he shouldn't be. He manages to tone down the distracting thoughts well enough to greet Ellen and Bobby, who sit next to each other at the kitchen table, sipping identical cups of coffee and switching newspaper sections as they nod good mornings to their adoptive son.

"Long night?" Bobby grumbles, quirking an eyebrow at Dean over his steaming coffee. Dean, in mid-yawn, nods his messy haired head and plops down at the table.

He looks at Ellen who is smiling a little at him. "What?" Dean inquires.

"Nothin'. Just proud of you."

He laughs. "Proud of me? Why?"

Ellen exchanges a look with her husband. "We know there was a party last night, Dean. Benny's mom called this morning."

"Wha-" He pauses, confused. "I didn't do anything though." Other than make out with a guy a barely know. He adds as an afterthought in his mind.

"We know! And we're proud of you for that." She laughs and Bobby picks up where she stopped. "You're a good kid, Dean, you could've gone to that party and got completely shit-faced or got some poor girl pregnant but you didn't drink and drive, you came home to us, and you drove your best friend home so he wouldn't get himself and Rea hurt..."

Dean laughs and shrugs. "I'm not into all that. Besides, you know you don't have to worry about me getting some girl pregnant, right?" Bobby and Ellen, his entire family in fact, have always been so supportive of Dean and had no problem when he came out. In fact, they told him that they had guessed long before he even had any idea.

Bobby chuckles. "I know, I know." He waves a hand. "But you never know what could happen at some of these parties. Back when I was your age-"

"Oh no, no. Please don't!" Dean throws up his hands like he's defending himself from Bobby's words. "Please, no more stories about 'the good old days.'" The two share a laugh and Bobby shakes his head. "I'm just saying," He says. "You may think you're invincible, that there's no way you could ever get into trouble, it couldn't be you to crash that car. But, you can't plan for everything. Just ask y-" He cuts off, but Dean knows exactly what he planned on saying.

"Just ask my father, huh?" Dean sighs and Bobby looks at the table awkwardly. "Bobby it's okay, my father is, or was, an ass. I know that, I knew that years ago. I know he did some bad shit and I'm okay. He's gone. You and Ellen are my parents and I couldn't ask for anyone better. Okay?" He feels almost like a parent right now, reassuring their worried child that everything is alright.

Ellen reaches across the table then, and clasps Dean's hand her hers. "It might be an almost horrible thing to say, but I'm honestly glad you're father left. He would have ruined you, and we never would have been able to raise you into the beautiful young man you are."

Dean smiles at her and squeezes her hand. He knows that John is his father and all, but he was an asshole and Ellen is right. Maybe John leaving was the best thing for everyone, a drunk is not the kind of person who should raise two young boys. Besides, family don't end in blood. Bobby is more of a father to Dean and Sam than John Winchester could ever be.

"Whoaa." a voice interrupts from the doorway. "Looks like we just walked in on a sappy family bonding moment." Dean turns with a grin to greet Jo, who stands still clad in her pajamas and with her blonde hair piled on top of her head. Next to her is Sammy, one hand intertwined with the hand of a pretty, green eyed, blonde haired girl.

"Hey Jess." Dean nods towards the girl and she grins back. "Hi Dean." Jessica Moore is Sam's girlfriend of about four months. The girl is like a second little sister to Dean, as she's lived very close to them for years. Sammy and Jess have basically grown up together, and when Sam finally got up the nerves to ask her out, no one was surprised. Dean is happy for his little brother, he's a good kid and he treats Jess well, and she's good for him; keeps him in line.

"Where ya headed Sammy?" Dean questions his little brother, noticing that both Sam and Jess are dressed like they're going some where.

"There's a bonfire tonight, at Ash Richardson's house. He's having a few people come over and hang out the entire day though."

"Oh yea, I heard him talking about that at practice Friday. Have fun." Dean smiles at Jess. "You keep him out of trouble Jess."

"Don't I always?" She smiles up at her boyfriend, Sammy's already nearly 6'1" and he's only sixteen.

Jo cuts in then, addressing her parents. "So, I figured, since I'm totally not ready now, I'm just gonna get a ride to Ash's with Alfie in like an hour. So you only have to drive Sam and Jess over." The last comment is directed to Ellen, who incidentally seems to be on her way to grab her jacket. "Sounds good." She responds.

"Whoa, whoa, wait. Hold up." Bobby rises from the table and turns to Jo. "A ride with Alfie?"

"Yea, Bobby." Jo sighs and rolls her eyes like a typical annoyed teenage girl. "He got his license like three months ago."

"I'm still not so sure I like you dating this Alfie kid, I mean he is a junior. He's a year older than you and-"

Dean decides to come to his little sister's rescue. "Hey, Bobby, it's fine. I know Alfie, he's cool. He works at that cafe I go to. He's trustworthy, moral, responsible, etc., etc. Everything you could want to see in your daughters boyfriend." He laughs and claps Bobby on the shoulder.

"Thaank you!" Jo throws her hand in the air. "Alfie's a sweetheart."

"Yeaa." Dean nods in agreement, but his eyes widen slightly when he remembers something. "And speaking of the cafe, I really need to get going. They want me there in like an hour."

He rushes out of the kitchen, throwing a few hastily said goodbyes over his shoulder, spinning around the door frame and sprinting up the stairs, leaving in his wake a very stunned but chuckling group of people. 

Dean lets out an exasperated sigh when he glances at the clock. Eleven forty five; he had no idea it was so late! Missouri had told him as he left yesterday that she wanted him at the cafe today by twelve fifteen at the latest. Why, Dean doesn't know. It's not like there are a ton of people coming to an obscure cafe in a small downtown area at noon on a Sunday just to hear him sing.

When Dean runs downstairs twenty minutes later, hair still wet from his shower, Ellen, Sam, and Jess have already left. He can hear Jo singing to herself up in her room, and Bobby is out in the yard messing around with his cars. Dean manages to reduce the usually twenty minute drive to about ten minutes, and he does so by praying his hardest to anyone who'll listen that a cop won't show up and pull him over for speeding. He bursts through the cafe doors at twelve twenty, just five minutes late. He holds his hands up in surrender when Missouri puts her hands on her hips and plasters a stern look on her face, stern, but motherly.

"I know, I know! I'm late!" He smiles sheepishly at her and shrugs an apology.

"Oh honey." She waves her hand at him and begins to tie an apron over her blue flowered dress. "I'm just messin' with you boy, you're only five minutes late and there ain't even anyone in here yet!"

Dean apologizes again, just because he's the type that hates to let people down, even if it was for only five minutes, but Missouri just grabs him by the arm and pushes him into a chair. "Sit, boy. I'll get you some coffee while you talk about that wild party I know you kids went to last night." She says 'wild party' like one might say 'church service,' like it was just an innocent get together and not a mini mansion full of drunk teens having unprotected sex.

The woman sets two mugs of coffee on the table, one for her and one for a very apprehensive Dean. "So." Missouri smirks like hearing about this boys teen life is the most entertaining thing ever. "Meet anyone cute lately?" 

Dean's mouth drops open into an "O" shape and Missouri bursts out laughing. "How is it," Dean stutters out, "that you always seem to know when something's happened in my life."

"I'm psychic remember?" She laughs and quirks an eyebrow, daring him to deny her claim.

"Oh yes, that's right!" Benny Lafitte shouts from where he has just entered the cafe through the back door. "Miss Missouri Mosely, all powerful seer. Knows your future, knows the truth, knows the lies. And you'd better damn well be nice to her or she'll tell you you're gonna die from electrocution in the shower. And you'll forever be too afraid to take showers."

"Benny!" Missouri scolds. "I would never!" She pauses for a moment, then crosses her arms over her large chest and shrugs. "Alright, maybe I would." She turns back to Dean and raises an eyebrow, telling him to spill. But, Dean shakes his head and with a glance towards Benny, lets her know that he's not telling her anything when Benny's around. Benny doesn't know about Cas, how could he? And Dean is kind of worried about him finding out about... whatever it is that's going on between Dean and Cas. Benny is the protective type, and if he thinks that Cas may be a bad influence on his best friend then he'll take action.

"Yo Dean!" Benny makes his way to their table and claps Dean on the shoulder. "Thanks for taking me and Rea home last night, man."

Dean nods and smiles. "My pleasure. Wouldn't want you two to go and get yourselves killed now would we."

"Yea that'd probably be a bit of a downer." The two of them laugh while Missouri just rolls her eyes. Then, she claps her hands once and stands up. 

"Alright boys, I'm low on staff today, not that I have much staff to begin with anyway, so I need you two to help me set up." Missouri gestures to the empty cafe, full of chairs still on tables and the tables still dirty. On Sundays, the cafe doesn't open until around twelve thirty, it being a lazy sort of day and all. But, Dean and Benny always love to come a little bit early just to hang out and talk with Missouri. The woman's like a second mother to the both of them.

While the boys and Missouri clean and get ready for the day, Dean likes to hum and sing softly to any song that happens to come on the cafe's radio, warming up his voice for when Missouri sends him up to sing. 

Thirty minutes later, the first group of regulars begin to flood in, laughing, joking, and shouting greetings across the little cafe. Rufus, an old friend of Bobby's from his brief truck driving days, joins Dean at the cafe's counter where he's been sitting since he finished cleaning. "Hey Dean, you gonna sing for us today?"

Dean nods and smiles. "That's the plan, Rufus."

"Well good." The older man replies. "Give us some good tunes huh?" Rufus laughs then and claps Dean on the back before standing back up. "Though I suppose you always do."

Dean smiles as the man walks away, gone to join the other who have begun to take seats all around the mini stage at the back end of the cafe. People turn to smile and wave at Dean as he makes his way to the front, greeting him and informing him that they've been waiting all week just to hear him sing again. Dean flushes red at all the compliments, things he's still not used to hearing. Being a normally, relatively shy guy, one would think that Dean wouldn't have the courage to get up on a stage and sing for everyone to hear. But, Dean is most confident with a mic in his hand and music flowing through his mind.

"How you guys doin' this afternoon?" Dean grins into the mic in the center of the stage. The stage is more like a platform that happens to be slightly taller than the rest of the cafe. It's not a very big place, and Dean loves that. The whole feel of the cafe is so familiar, like everyone in there is one big family. He looks out of the small room and smiles at each and every one of the people in there. Rufus off to the left with a bunch of trucker buddies, Missouri leaning on the cafe's car counter to the right with her head in her chin and a smile on her face, Benny, Rea, and Pam all share a table front and center, there's others too, people Dean has known for years. 

"Alright, I'm taking suggestions today. Just start throwing out some titles and I'll choose one I like. Sound good?" Dean gets a few scattered "duuh's" in return and he laughs as people begin to yell out their suggestions, or rather one suggestion. 

"LITERALLY ANYTHING YOU SING IS GOOD, JUST GO FOR IT!" Pam yells from her seat, earning a bunch of laughs and even a bit of applause from the truckers. Missouri nods her agreement and speaks up. "Pick any song you want honey."

"Alright, alright!" Dean holds up his hands and succumbs to their demands. "How 'bout a Rolling Stones song?" He strolls over to where to Missouri's iPod is hooked up off to the right side of the stage, she put the iPod there to make it easier for Dean and anyone else who sang there to find the music they need. He swipes through the music, knowing the karaoke version of the song he's looking for is already on there. 

He turns to grin at his audience as "Laugh, I Nearly Died" begins to seep through the entire cafe, bringing smiles to faces and a righteous "hell yea" from Benny. 

The song begins and Dean closes his eyes, enjoying the music for a few seconds before his eyes open and his voice comes out, soft and sweet. "I've been travelling, but I don't know where. I've been missing you, but you just don't care."

Another smile splits his face when he hears scattered, and soft, cheers coming from his small audience. He continues singing, closing his eyes and swaying along to the music, feeling it straight to his bones. He gets so absorbed in the sweet sound and his singing that he doesn't even notice the door of the cafe swinging wide and an unexpected character entering, turning heads and coaxing whispers from mouths. 

"Been traveling far and wide, wondering who's gonna be my guide. Been traveling far and wide, wondering who's gonna be my guide..." When his lips form the word "guide" for the second time, Dean's eyes open again and find themselves drawn to the cafe's bar counter, a little ways away from Missouri. He just barely keeps his mouth from dropping open and the next line from leaving his mind when he lays his gaze on a lean body slouching against the counter, one elbow resting on it and one leg crossed over the other at the ankle. His eyes travel from the black Doc Martens to the ripped skinny jeans, to the gray Led Zeppelin tee tucked into those jeans. They travel up even farther, over the worn leather of a jacket to the slight smirk on pink lips and then, lastly, to the shocking blue eyes of one Castiel Novak.

The song ends with a burst of applause from the people in front of him, who have now forgotten the stranger that walked into their little haven. Dean wrenches his gaze from Cas and turns instead to bow jokingly for his friends. "Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all- well actually I'm always here." He adds with a chuckle, and the cafe fills with laughter. He shifts slightly on the creaking wood that is the tiny stage and glances back to Cas. "Why is he here?! How did he know I was here?" Dean wonders to himself in a slight panic, no one but Benny and a few others of his school friends are supposed to know about this place! But Cas is different, he supposes....

Dean shakes his head to clear his thoughts and clears his throat, speaking into the mic he says, "I'm gonna take a little break. I might sing another, I might not." He smiles at the scattered groans and protests and turns towards the iPod behind him. "Guys, you actually have the original music to listen to, don't complain." The people laugh again and he selects another song, "When the Levee Breaks," the real version not the karaoke one.

Then, with a deep breath, Dean hops off the stage and casually walks over to the bar counter. He leans over it and grabs a mug of coffee that Missouri had left for him, trying to make it seem as though Cas's presence hasn't flustered him at all. Then, he feels a slight change in the air as Castiel walks the last few steps to him, leaning against the counter right next to him. Another deep breath of air fills Dean's lungs and he turns to lock eyes with Cas.

"Hi." He breathes out softly. Dean studies the face in front of him and notices with a start that Cas's eyes are rimmed with black eyeliner, something he didn't have the night before. The electric blue of his eyes seems all the more shocking with black outlining. 

"Hey." Cas grins like he has just learned the most wonderful of secrets.

"Why are you, uh," Dean pauses, "How did you know I was here?" He says instead.

"Not many people in this town have cars as nice as yours." Cas chuckles and a piece of black hair falls in front of his eyes, Dean feels his fingers twitch where they rest on a cafe chair, he itches to reach up and brush away that lock of hair. "I saw a black '67 Impala parked on the street in front of here and I figured there was no one else in this town who could possibly own that car except you, so I came in and apparently I was right." His lips twist up into a smirk as he gestures to the cafe, eyes studying every corner, every person in there. 

Dean sets his coffee mug down and folds his arms over his chest. Slightly on the defensive he says, "This place is my haven, Cas. And it's supposed to be a secret from most. I don't let a lot of people know I sing." His green eyes meet Cas's blue ones in an almost challenging stare. 

"Dean." Cas says softly, glancing around to the people in the cafe who are paying them no mind, except for a few confused glances from Benny and knowing ones from Missouri. Cas places a hand on Dean's folded arms and Dean relaxes, his arms dropping to rest on the bar instead, Cas's hand still resting on his wrist. "Dean, I understand. We all have those things we don't like others to know. Though what I don't understand is why in Hell you would want to keep your voice a secret. I have to say, when I walked in here to find you standing up on stage like you owned the place I-" He cuts off then and Dean swears he sees the boy's cheeks flush red.

"You what?" Dean smiles. 

"Nothing." Cas bites his lip and looks away, accidentally locking eyes with Missouri who hastily looks away and busies herself with the glass she's drying. When he looks back to Dean, the expression he finds facing him is almost stern, but teasing. One eyebrow raised and a smirk playing on his lips, Dean demands an answer. "Alright!" Cas throws up a hand in surrender. "You seemed like some sort of God, standing on that stage. You made it look like you were the God of music and this was your temple and these people had come to praise you and hear you sing. You were beautiful. You are." When he finishes, Cas; eyes grow wide like he hadn't at all meant to say any of that out loud. This time, he very obviously flushes red and begins to worry that lip piercing between his teeth again. An action, Dean has come to realize, that Cas does whenever he's thrust into a situation he's unfamiliar with. "I mean, I, uh. Shit." Cas sighs and looks down at the counter. 

Dean, who had been staring dumbstruck at the other boy for a good minute, finally finds his voice. He grins, possibly the widest he ever has and reaches out a hand to grips Cas's arm. His voice lowers involuntarily, becoming about an octave lower. "If we weren't in a room full of people I know, I would kiss you right now." He smiles as Cas stiffens in surprise. The blue eyes raise to meet his gaze and Cas leans in closer to him. "So why don't we get out of here?" He suggests. 

When Dean looks away towards the others in the cafe, contemplating whether or not leaving after only one song is an okay thing to do, Cas tugs on Dean's jacket, bringing his attention back to Cas. "I have somewhere to take you anyway." Cas says.

Dean raises his eyebrows in confusion and Cas laughs, "Don't you remember our date?" He teases.

Dean's mouth parts in surprise. "I thought you would call or something, you haven't even told me what we're doing. Plus I figured it would be tonight not-" His rambling his cut off when Cas clears his throat. 

"I was gonna call," Cas explains. "I was actually planning on calling at the exact moment I saw your car outside here. And I haven't told you what we're doing because it's a surprise and I hope to God you like surprise because if not than my whole plan just went to shit, and," Cas continues over Dean's laughter, "it is tonight but it technically takes like two hours to get there." 

Dean's eyebrows raise and he studies Cas suspiciously. Cas smiles at him playfully, daring him to spoil the fun by saying he won't go. "Okay." Dean is curious, he has to go. Plus there's no way in hell he would turn down a chance to spend more time near Cas. "Just let me let a few people know what's going on." With that, he turns away from Cas and heads off to find Missouri.

He finds her down the bar counter a ways, calmly drying glass after glass. She looks up at Dean with a knowing smirk on her face. "So that's the cutie you didn't want to tell me about earlier, isn't it? He's hot, good choice."

Dean groans and rolls his eyes. "Missouri!" She laughs and shrugs. "He's a little bit, uh, unexpected though." She adds, talking about Cas's almost punk appearance. 

Dean sighs and runs a hand through his hair, he sneaks a glance back to where Cas stands, lazily running a finger around a design in the wood of the counter. "I know, Missouri. But he's not what everyone thinks."

Missouri smiles then and clasps a hand around Dean's and squeezes. "Is anyone?" She inquires wisely. Then she pats Dean's hand and waves him away. "Go, have fun, kiss a cute boy, do teen stuff, just don't get yourself in trouble. I trust you'll make the right judgment." 

Deans smiles and thanks her, then turns around and runs straight into the wall of muscle that is Benny Lafitte. "Hey Ben." Dean greets his best friend who is stammering an apology for running into Dean.

Then, with another suspicious glance towards Cas, Benny talks, "The fuck is he doing here Dean?" The curse word brings a sound of protest form Missouri but Benny ignores her. 

"Benny," Dean holds up a hand to stop the larger boy from speaking again. "Benny, you don't even know him and I know the only thing you judge him on is based on the claims of other kids. He's a good guy, Benny."

Benny huffs in response. "Dean, your my best friend. I swear to God if he hurts you..."

"Then I can take care of myself, man. Your not the only one who can fight." Dean laughs and claps his friend on the shoulder. Before Benny can voice another protest, Dean is hurrying out of the cafe, dragging a slightly surprised Cas behind him.

The cool, crisp air spills over them and Castiel laughs. "Whoa there, Winchester. Eager aren't you?" He uses Dean's question from the night before and Dean rolls his eyes. "Hey, that's okay, I wanted to get out of there anyway. So I could do this..." And with that last word, Cas is grabbing Dean by the hand and spinning him around, Dean finds himself pinned against the brick wall of the cafe gasping in surprise as Cas presses his body flush against Dean's.

"Cas..." Dean breathes out, and to his humiliation he lets out a small whimper as Cas's lips just barely brush his. "Cas!" Dean states in protest as Cas's lips evade his.

"What, Dean?" Cas teases, and Dean knows he's doing this just to get Dean to react. "Hmm?" Cas inquires again when Dean doesn't answer.

"Jesus, fuck, Cas just kiss me." Dean practically yelps.

"Thought you'd never ask." Cas grins at the frustrated sound that escaped from Dean's lips and succumbs to his command.

Dean can't help but groan when those stupid, soft lips finally meet his. Dean's back is pushed against the brick wall and his hand clutches in the black leather of Cas's jacket. He relishes in the feel of cold metal on his lips and the friction of two bodies moving together. Cas moans softly as he trails a hand down to grip Dean's waist, and the man dips his tongue into Cas's mouth, feeling once again the smooth touch of a tongue piercing. They move together as one, hands trailing everywhere, breathing in sync. It feels like seconds, minutes, hours, Dean has lost track of time, all he knows is that it's much to soon when Cas breaks away breathing heavily and hair mussed up. His blue eyes sparkle as he grins at Dean, one hand sliding around Dean's waist to bring him closer for another quick kiss.

"We should do that more often." Dean murmurs and Cas laughs.

"I could be down for that." 

"Right now could work."

"As tempting as that sounds, we have a date." Cas reminds Dean with a smirk.

"Oh right, the date you won't tell me anything about but is apparently two hours away." Dean huffs, but he's obviously excited.

"Exactly!" Cas grins like a ten year old that just heard an ice cream truck. "So, are you ready to go now or do you need to go home or something first or..." He trails off and seems suddenly uncertain for a moment, like this is a situation he's never really been in before.

Dean looks down at what he's wearing, his typical get-up of old jeans, brown boots, and his dad's brown jacket over a faded black tee. "Well," he starts, "considering you won't tell me where we're going, I have no idea if this would be acceptable." He gestures to his clothes and looks at Cas with one eyebrow raised. Cas looks at him, eyes travelling slowly from head to toe and back again, like he couldn't see enough of Dean.

"It's perfect." Cas smirks and reaches out a hand to tug Dean's jacket, rubbing his fingers along the worn leather. Then, he glances a shoulder towards a car whose front end is just barely visible around the corner of the cafe. "Is it alright if we take my car? And I'll bring you to come pick up yours when we get back?"

"Of course." Dean replies immediately, inexplicably curious to find out what kind of car Cas drives. He had figured they'd be going on Cas's motorcycle, the old black one he had always seen the boy driving. But, Dean supposes that driving two hours on a motorcycle isn't exactly logical.

"Cool." Cas says, then turns to lead Dean out of the alley where the door to the cafe is located. Dean can't help but gasp slightly when he sees the car that has to be Cas's. 

"Damn." Dean whistles as his eyes study the classic car in front of him. "Is that a fucking Camaro?" He grins at Cas, the guy is always full of surprises.

Cas nods in confirmation. "1967." He chuckles. "Chevy Camaro, SS ProTouring Coupe. I found it when I ran away for a week about two years ago. Some idiot guy was only selling it for $1,000 so I figured what the hell." 

"It's hot." Dean smirks.

"Glad you approve." Cas jokes as he opens the passenger's side door and gestures towards it. "I've heard it's customary for the guy to open the door for his date."

"Haven't been on many dates?" Dean inquires as he slides into the soft leather seat and Cas closes the door. He watches through the windshield as Cas saunters around to the driver's side. He takes the brief chance to admire the way those black skinny jeans curve perfectly to Cas's bottom half, and how tight his Zeppelin tee is around his hipbones. He turns his head to smile at Cas as the boy slips his lean body gracefully behind the wheel. 

Cas answers his question then, simply saying. "This is my first, technically."

Dean's lips part slightly in surprise. "Technically?"

"Um, well, I'll just say that the people that have been interested in me, haven't exactly been interested in dating me." He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, like there's something he's not saying. Dean decides to let it go, it's a conversation that can be left for another time.

The brief seconds of silence are broken when Cas turns the key in the ignition and the Camaro rumbles to a start. Dean and Cas both smile at the subtle purr of the engine as the latter pulls the car away from the curb to start their journey.

Cas gestures to a stack of cassettes sitting in a box at Dean's feet, and Dean happily leans down to pick one out. "Shit, you've got some good music." He laughs. 

Cas just smiles warmly as Dean pulls out a tape labelled "2011." He studies it and then says, "What's this?"

Cas looks over and grins. "That," he starts, "is a tape I made when I was fifteen or sixteen when I was planning for my very first road trip. I just put a shit load of music on it, as much as would fit."

Dean cocks his head and looks at Cas, the boy is always a mystery. Dean throws a smile to Cas and then slips the tape into the player, curious to hear what fifteen year old Cas liked. An even wider smile spreads across his face as the soft voice of Phil Collins singing "In the Air Tonight" seeps through the speakers.

"My music taste hasn't changed much." Cas shrugs with a smile and Dean nods. "Mine either." Dean says. 

They drive in comfortable silence for a while, basking in their mutual love for classic rock, until Dean's curiosity gets the better of him.

"So you're really not going to tell me where you're taking me?"

Cas laughs and takes his eyes off the road long enough to smirk at Dean playfully and stare at him with sparkling eyes. "I'll tell you, but not the details."

"Where?" Dean asks unashamedly eager.

"A concert." Is all Cas says, his handsome features twisted into a mischievous smile. 


	4. Walk This Way

"Oh my god." Dean stares open mouthed at the sign in front of the Camero, lit up by dozens of headlights in the ever approaching dusk. 

Cas lets out a laugh and smiles at the boy next to him. "What?"

"I just-" Dean stops and takes a moment to collect himself. "When you said 'concert' I didn't realize you were taking me to a fucking Aerosmith concert!" He doesn't take his eyes off of the sign in front of them, the red and black lettering telling everyone "Aerosmith to perform at Mueller Hall, April 12th."

Cas's smile turns into a smirk and he raises an eyebrow at Dean as he merges the car onto a road jam-packed with others, probably all heading to the same place. "Problem?"

"Oh fuck no." Dean says his eyes growing wide at the sight of the outdoor stage rising up over the horizon as they inch closer. People are streaming all over the grass, filling in the rows of seats that are crowded together in front of the stage. The stage is at the bottom of a large hill, so the people who sit on the grass and not in the seats can see down without obstruction. Dean lets out an elated, disbelieving laugh and turns to grin at Cas, struggling to find the words to express how utterly ecstatic he is over this latest surprise. "I don-" He pauses. "How did you pay for this? Isn't it expensive? Man, you didn't ha-"

"Hey." Cas cuts off Dean's words and turns to look at him, briefly taking his eyes off the line of cars in front of them to meet Dean's gaze. "I wanted to, okay? I hope you don't think this was too much, too fast because I like you and I wanted to do this. Besides, I had the tickets already."

Dean smiles as Cas talks but instead of calling attention to the first thing Cas said, like he wants to, he mentions the last. "You had the tickets already?" At the back of his mind, Dean wonders if maybe Cas was planning on going to this concert with someone else, what if Dean is just plan B?

"Oh, yea," Cas waves a hand nonchalantly. "I know a guy who knows the guy who, like, takes care of the band's instruments or something. He got tickets but couldn't come and he asked if I wanted them so I figured 'why not' I might as well." 

Dean nods his head and turns to watch as Cas pulls into the already packed parking lot. A comfortable silence falls over them and stays until they're pushing their way through crowds of people and Cas leads an already in awe Dean to the section of seats just in front and left to the stage. 

"'Scuse me, sorry." Dean mutters apologies to numerous people as he brushes by them, then laughs as he watches Cas push through the crowd in front of them without a single apology. Cas pauses for a second, looking back at Dean and smirking, one eyebrow raised. Dean just shakes his head as the other boy turns back around, walking four feet before plopping down into a seat. Dean follows his lead and sits perched on the edge of the seat next to Cas, craning his neck to take in every bit of the arena he can see. He opens his mouth and turns to Cas to say something but at that moment, the lights brightening the arena go dim and the soon the most light there is is coming from the moon in the slowly darkening sky. Dean doesn't even look at the stage automatically, instead he watches Cas as his blue eyes light up and his mouth twists into a grin as the spot lights snap on and the crowd's cheers turn to roars.

Dean grins as he watches Cas, marveling at how different he seems under these lights, almost like a different person, less withdrawn. But the walls go back up as soon as Cas catches Dean's eye. Cas clears his throat and his grin changes into a smooth, indifferent smirk. "Pretty cool, huh?" Cas says, and Dean nods and smiles, knowing full well that Cas thinks it's much more than just "cool" and he hopes beyond measure that he can bring those walls that Cas has built up down for good.

"Alriiight! How's everybody doin' tonight?!" Dean's attention is drawn away from the boy next to him and up to the man standing above them on stage, his shoulder length hair gone crazy and a huge grin taking up half his face.

"Oh my GOD." Dean nearly collapses from excitement and that is NOT an exaggeration. Dean is pretty sure one of the only things on earth that could get him acting like a teenage fangirl is one of his favorite rock stars standing up on stage just close enough to touch if he just knelt down and reached out. Which is exactly what he does, six songs later. Steven Tyler, with his trademark crazy outfits, wild hair, and gravely voice, swaggers along the side of the stage, reaching one hand out to the screaming crowd before him and actually brushes Dean's hand. 

"Dude!" Dean, caught up in the excitement of the concert, reaches a hand out to Cas next to him and grips the sleeve of his black leather jacket. "Dude." He says again, eyes wide, not even looking at Cas until he hears the other boy laugh. 

"Having fun?" Cas grins at Dean when hey finally meet eyes. Dean rolls his eyes at the question because hell fucking yea he's having fun, and Cas can clearly see that. 

After that, probably somewhere in the middle of Walk This Way, it seemed that whatever shyness the boy's still felt towards each other was obliterated, and the rest of the concert was filled with random touches, shared grins, and a complete disregard for personal space; not that either of them minded. There was one especially wild moment in the middle of Dream On when Dean let loose and began belting out the lyrics with Cas laughing so hard he bent over at the waist. But, Cas joined in with a little air guitar and even began to sing softly too. By the end of the night, Dean can easily say that this night ranks way up there with the best nights of his life. And he unashamedly tells Cas as much as they're walking to the car; practically hanging all over each other without any of their previous reservations.

Cas has just barely put his hand on the door handle of the passenger side door when someone calls out his name. Dean, who had been leaning against the side of the car watching Cas with a smile on his face, pushes off the car in surprise and turns to meet the blue eyes of a young man with shaggy blonde hair. Somewhere in the back of Dean's mind he can't help but compare these blue eyes with Cas's, and how much duller they seem than the stormy blue of those belonging to the boy next to him. Who, as a matter of fact, has turned away from the car with a rare smile on his face to greet the newcomer.

"Adam!" Cas reaches out to the other boy and drags him in for a friendly hug. "Hey man!"

Dean watches in slight surprise, shocked at how friendly Cas is being with this guy considering Cas has never seemed to be very friendly with anyone, the exception being Dean of course. Dean stands next to the two young men, watching the exchange with wide eyes, and his surprise grows even more at the sound of another voice shouting out a greeting. Dean turns, his mouth dropping open of it's own accord at the sight of a boy with the same clear blue eyes and the same shaggy blonde hair as this Adam character. And not just the same eyes and hair, the same everything. They're practically identical, except for the way they carry themselves. Adam seemed to Dean to be much more reserved and modest, while this other guy walks with an air of confidence that made it obvious he was used to a lot of attention. This new guy was welcomed by Cas in much the same way Adam was and Dean learns that his name is Michael. Dean stands there, once again just listening to Cas having an uncharacteristically friendly and upbeat conversation before clearing his throat, bringing attention to the fact that yes, hello, he's still here. 

Cas turns to Dean with a grin still on his face before it turns into an apologetic grimace. Dean smiles back, letting the other boy know that it's fine, he's not mad. Dean holds out his hand first to one of the strangers, Adam he thinks, and then to the other one, shaking both of their hands and introducing himself. 

Cas claps a hand on Dean's shoulder and smiles. "Oh, sorry." He says apologizing for not introducing the three of them sooner. "Yea, guys this is Dean. Dean this is Adam and Michael Shurley." Dean nods his head at both, now he can put names to faces. "Twins, obviously." Cas continues, like he's unsure of how to handle a situation like this. 

Dean smiles at Cas and subconsciously shifts a little closer to him, his next statement is directed at the twins. "So, how do you guys know Cas?" 

To Dean's slight confusion, Adam laughs and shakes his head. "It's a long story." Michael grins. "And I think we'll let Cas tell you it. But to sum it up, our dad knows him and introduced us like two years ago." Dean nods and can't help but thinking to himself that two years ago had to have been around the time Cas ran away from home.

Cas looks at Dean and speaks up. "Their dad, Chuck, he's the guy that got us the tickets. He helped me out of a tough jam a while back and he's kind of been like a surrogate dad to me." Cas closes his mouth quickly then, almost like he didn't mean to say as much as he did. 

"That's right!" Michael exclaims, throwing an arm around Cas's shoulder in almost a headlock. "Cas is like a little brother to us, huh Cas?" 

"Shut up, dickwad, you guys are barely a year older than me." Cas snorts, pushing Michael away. 

"Aw, there's the sweet Cas we know." Adam gushes while Cas flips him off. 

Dean laughs, enjoying this unexpected moment and very happy that he's gotten to see a little bit of Cas's life behind the walls he uses to keep everyone out.

"And this," Cas winds an arm around Dean's waist. "Is why I never introduce anyone to you guys." He glares at Adam and Michael who do nothing but laugh. Cas heaves a sigh before rolling his eyes and joining in; he claps both boys on the shoulder and says goodbye, then heads around the Camaro to the driver's side. 

Dean is just about to open his mouth to say goodbye to the twins when Michael grabs his left arm, Adam grabs his right and they suddenly tug him away from the car, out of Cas's earshot. "Wha-" He starts, surprised. 

The twins release him and then crack identical grins. "Sorry," Adam starts, "We just wanted to talk to you before Cas decides to start being an ass again and stop us from embarrassing him."

Dean eyes them both warily, wondering where this is going.

Michael picks up where his brother left off. "Regardless of what he said, you are literally the first person that Cas,"

Adam cuts in, "At least, to our knowledge."

And Michael continues. "Has ever even been on a date with, much less introduced to us. So, while it may seem sometimes that Cas is a total dickhead and deserves nothing more than to be dropped on his ass, just know that we both think he cares about you." Michael holds up a hand when Dean opens his mouth to speak. "Yea, I know we don't know you, but we know Cas, and he seems different around you. Cas is like a brother to us, and we know how bad he can be sometimes. Dean, if you plan on being with him, if you plan on making something out of whatever it is you two have, just please don't push him too much. He's difficult and withdrawn and while he may want you to think that he's high and mighty and nothing can hurt him, that's not true-"

This time, Dean is the one to hold up a hand to stop the words from leaving Michael's mouth. He smiles reassuringly at the twins who seem to care so much about Cas. "I know." He states. "I know how he is. I won't hurt him, if that's what you're worried about. And I know that if he ever hurts me, it's not on purpose, it's not because he's a bad person, it's because he's been broken down before and he's scared. I will NOT be just another person who hurts him." Dean takes a deep breath to stop himself before he says something more to these people he barely knows. He meant every word that he said, he won't hurt Cas and he hopes to God that Cas let's Dean be the support he won't admit to needing.

"Good." Adam smiles softly. Then, he looks at the car where Cas has just gotten in and then back to Dean. "Hey, give us your number and if you ever need to call someone to talk to about him, you can call us okay?" Dean nods in response and numbers are exchanges before the twins head off down the parking lot. Dean watches their retreating backs with wide eyes, and then laughs and shakes his head as he slides into the passenger's seat of Cas's Camaro. Funny how things work in life. These two guys he didn't even know before today have suddenly become the two people he knows he can talk to about the boy in the driver's seat, who Dean realizes his feelings for have become alarmingly strong in just a few days.

"What were you talking about?" Cas questions as he pulls the car onto the road, surrounded by dozens of other cars that light up the night with their headlights. 

Dean smiles as he watches the arena slowly disappear in the side view mirror. "Just the concert." He says, then looks over to meet the pair of blue eyes he knows will fill his dreams tonight. "I had fun."

"We should do this again sometime." Cas grins.

"That we should." Dean hums, and Cas's hand finds his and they spend the rest of the ride with their fingers interlocked and Steven Tyler's voice singing softly from the radio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided that every chapter in this story is going to be named after a song, or something baseball related depending on what happens in the chapter. Just fyi.


	5. Forward

"Oh God, Ellen and Bobby are going to kill me!" Dean runs a hand through his already mussed up brown hair and just about presses his face against the glass of the car window. He sees Cas glance anxiously at him from the corner of his eye but he ignores him. They're still driving, but it honestly hasn't been long since they left the concert. Dean had been so caught up in the events of that night that he had completely forgotten curfew. Curfew was just a rule Bobby and Ellen gave their own kids, be back before midnight on school nights. It's one of their few rules and Bobby always said "it's your own problem if you don't get enough sleep, we just don't wanna be worryin' 'bout you the whole damn night so get home."

"Dean-" Cas starts, the expression on his face is one of confusion, like he doesn't truly understand why Dean is reacting like this. "I don't think-."

"You haven't met Ellen and Bobby." Dean states, pulling away from the window and the darkness outside to slump down in the chair with his arms folded. "They probably won't let me go out for a month." 

"A months not that bad." Cas smirks and Dean has a sneaking suspicion that even if Cas was given a curfew, there'd be a slim chance he would pay any attention to it. Not for the first time Dean finds himself wondering about Cas's home life and what it's like.

"Well you, Castiel, I have no doubt are adept at sneaking out but I am not. And if I wanted to see anyone when I was grounded it'd be damn hard." Dean adds the last part with a short glance at Cas, wondering if the other boy understands his implications that Dean would sneak out to meet Cas in a heart beat if it was, indeed, a possibility. Which, Dean supposes, it would be if Ellen did have the hearing of a bat and if his whole family weren't such light sleepers.

"I'd help you sneak out. It'd be fun. I could corrupt Mr. Popular." Dean can't help but laugh at the mischievous grin that appears on Cas's face and something about the wicked gleam in those blue eyes gives no doubt that Cas would love to "corrupt" Dean Winchester. 

"You're a bad influence, Novak." Dean rolls his eyes but still has a grin on his face. 

To his surprise, Cas doesn't respond with another witty retort, instead he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, biting it in what Dean, if it were anyone else, would see as shyness.

"Hey, if it's really a big deal and if you don't think they'd scream at the sight of me, I could talk to your, um, parents. You know, tell them it's my fault you missed your curfew. I could use my devilish charm, huh?" He laughs at the last part and wiggles his eyebrows at Dean, who rolls his eyes but smiles.

"What makes you think they'd 'scream at the sight of you'?" Dean cocks his head in question.

Cas snorts and his shoulders lift up in a shrug. He taps the little silver piercing on his bottom lip, then the black plugs in his ears. "Most parents just see the piercings, the tattoos, the leather, the bike, etc. Not me." He shrugs again, like he's used to it and it stopped bothering him a while ago. Dean nods in understanding but he can tell that it still does bother Cas, no matter how much he tries to hide it.

"Bobby and Ellen aren't like that." He insists, because they really aren't and that's just one reason why they're great. "Hell, I know for a fact that Bobby used to ride with a motorcycle gang when he was in his twenties." Dean barks out a laugh, just like he always does when he imagines Bobby tearing up the streets on a Harley Davidson and wearing fringy leather jackets. 

Cas smiles when Dean laughs and then lets out a sigh. "Alright, I guess I'll take your word for it. But you know, it's dangerous business meeting the parents. Especially on the first date after bringing home their kid late."

"They can suck it up and deal because they're not keeping me from you." It's out of Dean's mouth before he really truly knew what he was saying and his eyes open wide, knowing full well that what he just said just might drive Cas away. True they've only had one date, but Dean won't deny that all he wants is dozens more.

"Well that's good news. Because I don't know if I could stand being away from you." Cas says this without taking his eyes off the road in front of them, he worries that piercing between his teeth and Dean could swear he sees Cas's hands tighten on the steering wheel. He's opening up more, and Dean couldn't be happier about it. 

Instead of answering with words, Dean smiles and reaches over to Cas, pulling the other boy's face towards his in a kiss for as long as they dare, what with Cas driving and all. 

-:-:-:-

"Oh God." Dean groans as Cas pulls the old Camaro into the driveway of Dean's house. "That's perfect." His voice drips with sarcasm. Bobby and Ellen are both outside, sitting in the swinging bench they have on the fence. To Dean's utter horror and embarrassment, he sees that Bobby has his shotgun out and is calmly cleaning the barrel as Cas confidently leads Dean up to his own front porch. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Singer?" Cas blurts out as he climbs the steps to the porch, and Dean spares a flattered thought at the fact that Cas knows about the different last names.

Ellen looks up from the book in her lap and pushes her reading glasses on top of her head while next to her, her husband just raises an eyebrow and continues wiping down the shotgun. Dean suppresses another groan, he knows exactly what Bobby's doing. You know, the whole "Dad sitting outside with a shotgun when he meets the boyfriend to intimidate him" thing. 

Castiel doesn't even bat an eyelash, and Dean honestly isn't surprised in the slightest that Cas isn't phased by the shotgun. 

"I'm Castiel." Cas thrusts out his hand to Ellen, who stands up with a warm smile and shakes it. Bobby, when offered the hand, stands up as well, though he shakes Cas's hand with a stern, almost threatening look on his face. Dean knows it's pretty much all an act, Bobby's wouldn't do a thing. "I, uh," Cas glances at Dean for a moment. "I want to apologize for bringing your son home so late, I hadn't realized before we went to the concert that we'd be getting back after midnight." Cas's voice is quieter than Dean is used to hearing from him and he realizes with a jolt that Cas must be nervous. Something tells Dean that Cas isn't really used to talking to parents, but hell, he's doing a pretty good job right now. 

Dean decides to step forward then, seeing as they're his parents. "Look, I know I should've called but I kind of wasn't thinking and I know you guys don't know Cas but he's a really great guy and he took me to an Aerosmith concert and it was probably the best experience of my life and I'd really appreciate it if you could just accept this lame excuse for an apology because-" Dean knows he's ranting but he doesn't stop until Bobby cuts him off with a laugh, surprising both Dean and Cas. 

"Son," Bobby chuckles. "We're not mad in the slightest. Just having a bit of fun freaking you out." Dean groans at that. "You can take care of yourself Dean, we know that. And Castiel is it?" Bobby turns to Cas and claps a shoulder on the boy's shoulder. Dean nearly laughs out loud at the perplexed look on Cas's face, he must have been expecting a very different reaction.

Cas nods and stammers out a "yes" in response to Bobby, who continues talking. "You seem like a nice young man to me but next time why don't you try and get Dean home a little earlier, huh? Good." Bobby adds the last word without waiting for a response and with one last chuckle, turns and walks into the house, the door snapping shut behind him.

Cas turns to Dean with his brow furrowed and this time Dean really does laugh at his expression. "Sorry." He says simply.

"So," Ellen clears her throat, bringing the attention of both boys to her. "Aerosmith huh? Impressive date, where'd you get the tickets from?" 

"Oh, um." Cas stammers then smiles, regaining some of his usual cool composure. "A friend of mine knows a guy who works for the band, he got me the tickets." Cas tells Ellen what Dean already knew. 

"That's great." Ellen smiles again and Dean makes a mental note to thank her a million times for welcoming Cas so warmly. "Well," Ellen says through a yawn that Dean can pretty much tell is faked. "I'm off to bed, don't stay out here for too much longer alright Dean honey?"

Dean nods his consent and gives her a hug goodnight, mouthing a "thank you" to her before she goes inside. Then, he turns back around to Cas and smiles sheepishly. "They can be a bit much. And I am extremely embarrassed." Dean laughs. 

Cas smirks and reaches out a hand to grip Dean's worn leather jacket and pulls him closer. "They're cool. That was just totally not how I was expecting it to go."

Dean smiles softly down at the slightly shorter boy. "Cuz of this?" He cups Cas's face with his hand and lightly taps the silver piercing on the blue eyed boy's lip with his thumb. Cas smirks. "And these?" Dean adds, looking down at Cas's chest and tracing the tattoos that are just barely visible through Cas's thin, white t-shirt. This time, the smirk parts into a grin and Cas laughs.

"Yea, because of them." He says, running a hand up Dean's arm. Even through the layers of his clothes Dean could swear he can feel the heat of Cas's hand. When he feels that hand float over his shoulders and tangle in his hair, Dean leans down and captures Cas's lips in a soft kiss. They break apart only because they both know that Cas should really get going.

Dean walks Cas back to his Camaro and leans against the side as Cas opens the door. "Wait." Dean says, almost cautiously. He reaches out a hand to catch the sleeve of Cas's black jacket. Cas turns to look at him with a smirk that seems to say he knows exactly what conversation they're about to have. "Where is this headed Cas?" It's a thought that's been haunting Dean honestly since his conversation with Adam and Michael. What really are Castiel's intentions? They basically went from completely strangers to kissing against a brick wall and going to a concert in just a weekend. Dean never expected for any of this to happen with a guy he knows next to nothing about except the rumours he hears at school. 

"Forward." Cas replies with an eyebrow raised and a cocky smirk. 

Dean, still somewhat absorbed in his own worried thoughts, cocks his head in confusion. "Forward?" 

"Yea. The best way to go. Forward. I like you, Dean, and for me that's a strange thing to admit. Trust me, if someone told me a month ago that I'd actually like the most popular guy in school I probably would've beat them. But you're not what your reputation implies you are, not at all."

"Neither are you."

"I honestly don't know where people got the idea that I'm such a bad guy." Cas looks genuinely disappointed that people think badly of him. 

"People judge on looks, not on what really counts." Dean states simply. 

"I'm glad you're not like "people" then." Cas chuckles and Dean shrugs. 

"I stopped giving a shit about what anyone says about me or about other people as soon as I decided to come out. Gossip isn't truth, you only learn the truth about someone when you know them." 

"God, why can't the whole world think like you, Dean Winchester."

"Aww, but if everyone was nice then life would just be too damn easy wouldn't it?" Dean drawls, his voice dripping with a playful sarcasm. He grins when Cas throws his head back in laughter, it's the kind of full body laugh he's never seen from the boy and he loves it. 

"Touche." Cas says, laughter still etched on his handsome face.

"Cas?" Dean says, hating to ask what he's about to, but it's necessary.

"Yea?" 

"What are we gonna do at school tomorrow?" Dean can't help it when his gaze falls to the ground and he kicks at a rock by his foot. Dean finds himself afraid of what Cas might say, that they should ignore each other, they should keep their relationship secret, that maybe Cas just wants someone to touch but not be in a relationship with.

"Dean. Do I have to keep reminding you that I really like you. It scares the hell out of me but damn, I do. And I don't give a fuck about anybody at school except you, so to hell with what they say. You wanna know what we'll do at school tomorrow? We're gonna walk in that god forsaken building together and I'm gonna kiss those pretty lips of yours in the middle of the damn hall for everyone to see and fuck it all." Cas's voice raises a little in volume and he waves his hand around in emphasis. He opens his mouth to say something more but then stops when he sees the huge grin on Dean's face. "What?" He inquires.

"I am so glad you walked into that locker room, Novak." It's cheesy, Dean doesn't care. 

Cas snorts. "You're lame." But he smiles and slips his hand past Dean's jacket and rests it on the boy's hip, one finger hooked in a belt loop.

"One more question." Dean smiles. Cas waves a hand for him to keep going. "Tomorrow, you know everyone will be talking. So when they ask us what we are, what will we say?"

Cas laughs, a wonderful sound that Dean knows he'll never get tired of hearing. "Not that it's anyone's damn business, but I'll be telling everyone that their precious star pitcher is my boyfriend. That okay?" He smirks.

Dean doesn't respond with words, just a kiss that he hopes conveys how freaking happy he is at that answer. 

"I guess that's a yes." Cas smiles when they break apart. 

"People might try to break us up you know." Dean laughs, it's highly unlikely but you never know. 

"We'll just keep going forward." Cas states, repeating his earlier words. 

"Yea."

-:-:-:-

After what must have been at least ten more kisses, each one meant to be the goodbye-for-real-this-time kiss, Cas speeds out of the driveway in a cloud of dust and Dean practically drags himself into the house, suddenly realizing how tired he is. He's nearly to the stop of the steps leading upstairs when suddenly a voice of to the left scares the hell out of him, almost making him topple back down. 

"Holy freaking crap Dean! Was that Castiel Novak? ARE YOU DATING HIM OH MY GOD!?" 

It's Jo. Standing there in her pyjamas with her blonde hair in a ratty bun she's got her hands on her hips, an excited look on her face, and somehow she manages to yell in a whisper tone. "Dean!" She says again.

"Jesus, chill Jo. You scared the hell out of me." Dean rubs a hand over his face, his heart still beating somewhat fast in his chest out of surprise. 

"Castiel Novak." Jo states. Dean rolls his eyes because he knows full well that she won't let this go until she gets a response.

"Yea, Jo. It was Cas. We're dating, it's none of your business."

"But Dean. Don't you listen to anything people say? Didn't he burn down the gym or something?"

"Oh my God." Dean throws his hands up in exasperation. "Jo, the gym has never been burned down so obviously Cas didn't do that, okay? You need to stop listening to gossip, it's crap."

"He's hot." Jo states and Dean can't help but laugh at her comment.

"I know he is. Can I go to bed now?"

"I mean, sure if you really want to." Jo folds her arms over her chest like she's truly annoyed that Dean won't say more about Cas.

"I do. Bye Jo." He waggles his fingers at his little sister and then escapes into his bedroom.

A few minutes later, just as Dean is dozing off, his phone begins to buzz. He picks it up and smiles when he sees "Cas" glowing on the screen. He opens the text and his smile grows wider.

"Forward. Right? No matter what." It reads. 

Dean types a message back and falls asleep with a smile still on his face.

"No matter what."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said at the end of last chapter that I was gonna name every chapter after a song or something baseball related that happened in the chapter but seeing as there was no song and no baseball, this chapter is not like that. I could write more so I'd be able to do that but if I did, this would end up being way too long.


	6. Perfect Game

"You weren't kidding." Dean grins down at Castiel in the middle of the school hallway right after being enveloped in the boy's warm embrace and kissed 'till he felt like he was floating, just like Cas said they would do. People must be talking. He thinks, but he doesn't care, he can't hear them and they aren't important.

"Did you really think I was?"

"Nope." Dean says, popping the "p" and laughing.

"Whoa, brother!" Dean is just about to lean in for another kiss when suddenly a hand claps him on the shoulder and a voice laden down with southern sweetness interrupts them. It's Benny, obviously. "Mornin's barely begun and ya'll have already started quite the commotion." He laughs; Dean figures he must have come to terms with his earlier reservations about Cas because it seems to Dean that Benny isn't phased at all by this.

"Benny." Dean grins and nods at his best friend as Pamela sidles up and joins their trio.

"So I see you've decided to go public. You do realize that there's pictures of you two making out already posted on pretty much every social media you could think of. I'm Pam by the way, the fun friend, hi." Pam sticks her hand out to Cas and smiles sweetly.

"Cas." Dean chuckles at the boy's raised eyebrows and watches the two shake hands.

"Okay." Pam, Dean, and Cas turn their attention to Benny, who looks like he's figuring out the best way to say something. "I may have been a total dick head and listened to gossip, and I didn't like you." Obviously this is directed at Cas. "But, I've come to my senses and I'm sorry. Because if Dean likes you then you must be a good guy."

"How sweet." Pam drawls.

"Shut it Pamela." Dean rolls his eyes without even looking at her, then grips Benny's forearm, thanking him silently.

Cas laughs, a sort of chuckle that reflects how uncomfortable he feels with Dean's friends, whom he barely knows. "Well, thanks man. But you know that even if you didn't approve of Dean's relationship with me, it wouldn't have changed anything. I like him, I'm pretty sure he likes me, and no one's opinions will ever keep me from him." Cas stands straight up, shoulders back, defiant and confident. Dean slips his hand into Cas's and squeezes it tight, thinking nothing but God, this guy is fantastic.

"Touche man, touche." Benny grins and holds out his hand. Cas relaxes a bit then and his face splits in a grin to match Benny's as the two shake hands.

Meanwhile, the hallways are full of whispers and furtive glances towards the group in the middle. Dean hears snippets of conversations as the four of them make their way through the school, Dean and Cas's hands still intertwined.

"Do you see-" "Are they together?" "Castiel and Dean?" "I thought Cas hated jocks." "Bet they're just fuck buddies."

Dean can't help the laugh that escapes his lips when he hears that last one, and obviously Cas heard it too if his amused scoff was anything to go by. The boys exchange a glance and nearly lose it. "People." Dean shakes his head in exaggerated disbelief.

"Agreed." Cas says, just as the bell rings to go to first period. "Oh by the way," Cas says in response to the bell. "I do actually go to class, despite what everyone, for some reason, chooses to say." And just like that, with a quick kiss on Dean's cheek, he's off down the hallway, leaving a laughing Dean in his wake.

The rest of the day is like one big whisper down the lane game every time Dean walks through the halls. He and Cas meet up in between classes when ever they can, not giving two shits about the whispers that grow even louder when the two are together. Benny, Pam, Garth, Ash, Anna, and all of Dean's friends welcome Cas into their lunch group with absolutely no issues. Cas, Dean can tell, feels pretty out of place amidst the "populars" but he soon warms up. Dean offered to sit with Cas's friends but Cas waved him off saying something along the lines of "I don't have any real friends Dean. No one I would let any where near you." The response left Dean kind of perplexed, but he didn't question it.

When the school bell rings out the release from hell, Dean and Cas practically sprint out of the building. Their goodbye consists of Dean being pressed up against the driver's side door of his Impala by Cas, a long kiss, and a promise to hang out as soon as possible. Dean watches happily as his hunk of a boyfriend - wow it's still weird for Dean to think that - swings a denim clad leg over his motorcycle and salutes a goodbye before shoving a helmet over his already mussed up black hair and speeding out of the parking lot, leaving behind an admittedly horny Dean and A LOT more not-so-subtle whispering.

Sitting down for dinner that night, Dean's family doesn't miss a beat and he's almost immediately bombarded with questions about Cas, most of them from Jo.

"But on Friday you were single. On Friday I didn't even think you even knew who he was." Jo exclaims through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. She does have a point, Dean admits to himself, on Friday he didn't even have an interest in anyone. That is, until his little encounter with Cas in the locker room.

"Jo," Sam speaks up. "Everyone knows who Cas is. The guys like a legend."

Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Half the stuff people say about him isn't even true and he's only considered a "legend" because he's brave enough to say out loud the things everyone else is thinking."

"I'm starting think I should've sat this boy down and had a talk with him." Bobby raises an eyebrow and finally chimes into the conversation.

"Bobby I think you're friggin' rifle did enough talking." Dean sighs while Bobby chuckles and looks extremely proud of himself.

"I still think-" Jo starts to say something but Dean, completely fed up, interrupts her.

"Jo. If you really don't believe me when I say that Cas is not what everyone says he is then I will freaking invite him over and you two can have a heart to heart and you can interrogate him all you want all right? Honestly, if you're going to survive high school then you need to learn not to listen to gossip! Figure out who someone is for yourself before you go believing the lies." He finishes with an air of finality and Jo nods in surrender.

"Allright, allright I get it. But you're my brother, Dean, you can't blame me for being slightly worried. Plus," she chuckles. "He's hot. And hot boys can be dangerous."

"Oh my God." Dean shakes his head at his little sister and he feels his cheeks burn red, but the rest of the family just laughs. Dinner ends when Jo finally runs out of innapropriate Cas related jokes she can use to embarass Dean. Sammy runs off when he gets a call from Jess, Ellen and Bobby escape to their usual spot on the front porch, and Jo decides she might as well finish her homework for once.

Dean slips upstairs, thankful for some peace and quiet finally, and is just about to open his History text book when his phone starts to vibrate.

"Hi," He picks it up, grinning when Cas's voice comes through the other end.

"Hey, babe." Cas rumbles, and Dean smiles even wider at the pet name.

"That was crazy today, huh?" Dean says as he settles back into the pillows on his bed.

"Understatement. But I kind of expected it." Cas sighs, and Dean finds himself wishing they were in the same room. "I don't even want to know what people are thinking. I mean, I know what people say about me."

"Yea well," Dean chuckles humorlessly. "From what I can tell, Cas, it's all bullshit, they don't know you."

"From what you can tell?" Cas sounds like he's smirking.

Dean furrows his brow. "I realized about ten minutes ago that I don't really know you, Cas. It's like I know you, but not why you are you. Does that make sense?" He probably sounds completely nuts right now but it's something that's been bothering Dean. He doesn't really know Cas.

"No I get it." Cas sighs. "I thought the same about you. What's your story Dean Winchester?"

Dean laughs and shakes his head. "There's not much I could say that you probably wouldn't have already guessed." That's not true. Dean thinks silently to himself. Dean has a past that darker than most other kids his age, and he's not about to spring it on Cas when they''ve barely been dating a day.

"I doubt that. Everyone has something that no one knows. Obviously I do, know one knows anything about me." Cas's tone is unexpectedly cheerful seeing as the conversation could get deep real fast.

"I'd like to know." Dean says quietly.

"I'd like you to know." Cas replies, and Dean can't help his small gasp. He's surprised, but happy at the answer. "Tell you what," Cas says. "One day, we'll have a huge confessional and tell each other all the dirty details. But not tonight, not over the phone."

"Agreed." Dean says. Their conversation soon turns to lighter topics, like how shitty school lunches are, how awesome Metallica is, and how hilarious it is that something as simple as a relationship can make the whole damn school go nuts. They talk well into the night about pointless things, but afterwards, when they say goodnight and hang up, Dean feels closer to Cas, like he learned so much just from simple conversation.

-:-:-:-

A week later, people are still gossiping in the hallways and a week later, Dean and Cas still don't give a shit. They walk through the hall hand in hand, Dean in his letterman jacket and Cas in his black leather one, looking to all the world like the most unlikely couple but no one can deny that it's obvious they're completely smitten with each other. No one misses the sparkle in Cas's eye when he slips his hand into Dean's back pocket, everyone sees the way Dean grins when Cas leans up against the locker next to his in the morning, and soon the negative comments about their relationship have almost all been turned to things like "all right, they're pretty cute together."

The monday after the monday when Cas and Dean went public is the first baseball game of the season for Carver High, and Dean couldn't be happier when he looked into the bleachers and saw Cas lounging up there with everyone else. Admittedly, people are kind of avoiding the tattoo-covered boy, but he looks totally content with that. Dean can't help but grin when he sees his boyfriend, black sunglasses on, that smirk etched on his face, sitting on the bleachers with his elbows leaning on the bench behind him, looking like he owns the place.

Even Coach Milton says he pitched better that game than any game he'd every played in so far.

As it is every game, Dean is the last one to straggle off the field after the two teams shake hands and the fans leave. He's got his equipment back slung over his shoulder as he makes his way towards the bleachers, on his way to the locker room.

"You look good in those pants." Dean grins as Cas pushes off from where he was leaning against the bleachers and winds his arm around Dean's waist. "I need to thank who ever invented baseball pants." Cas bites his lip and Dean nearly yelps when Cas's hand travels down to squeeze his ass.

"Caas." Dean exclaims as his boyfriend pulls him even closer, but he's smiling. "I'm sweaty and filthy." He warns.

"Mm just how I like you."

Dean, to his own horror, blushes a bright shade of red, which only encourages Cas even more.

"Aw, I made him bluush." Cas practically sings out in a playfully mocking voice.

"You're a shit head." Dean groans and pushes on Cas's chest, breaking away. He rolls his eyes while Cas laughs but secretly - maybe not-so-secretly - loves it when Cas teases him like this.

"I didn't expect you to come today! You've never been to a game before have you?" Dean turns and walks backwards towards the locker room as he talks to Cas.

Cas sticks his hands in the front pockets of his black skinny jeans and grins as he follows Dean. "School things aren't exactly my thing. But now that I've seen you play I can't believe I didn't come sooner."

"Why's that?" Dean turns back around so he's walking forward, swinging his bag as he goes.

"Uh, you're hot." Cas states from behind him, like his answer should be totally obvious. "And very nice to look at."

Dean rolls his eyes and tosses a playful glare over his shoulder as Cas catches up to him. "Don't objectify me." Dean says.

"So sorry." Cas smirks, not sorry at all. He winds his arm around Dean's waist as the two get closer to the locker room.

"You're gonna have to wait out here Cas." Dean states, nodding towards the brick wall where the door of the school's locker room is. He laughs as Cas groans and fake pouts, sticking his bottom lip out. "Hey, I don't think the rest of my team would appreciate you walking in on them half naked."

"Well if you're gonna be half naked then I don't really care what they want." Cas wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and Dean smacks him upside the head. "Ow!" But he's laughing as he rubs his head.

"Alright fine!" Cas holds his hands up in surrender. "I'll wait for you." And he leans against the brick wall with his arms crossed and one black boot resting up on the wall behind him.

"Really?" Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise, he had honestly figured Cas wouldn't feel like waiting and would leave.

"'Course." Cas shrugs. "So get your cute ass in there and hurry up." He waves a hand like he's shooing Dean away. Dean rolls his eyes and mockingly salutes the other boy, grinning as he trails into the locker room nearly fifteen minutes after everyone else.

"DEANY BOY!" Half the team shouts when he walks into the steam filled room.

"Hey brother!" Benny comes up with a towel rapped around his waist, fresh from the shower, as Dean starts to rid himself of his dirt filled uniform. "We were startin' to think you and that boy of yours would flirt the whole night away!" Benny gufaws.

"Oh shut up." Dean laughs. "How'd you even know it was him I was talking to?"

Ash pipes up from a few lockers down. "Oh come on Dean, we all saw him at the game. He's kind of hard to miss you know."

"Oh I know." Dean grins, thinking to himself that no one would want to miss Cas because, well, he looks damm fine in that greaser slash punk slash rockstar look he's got going on.

Dean is in and out of the locker room in what's got to be the fastest time for him ever. He walks out of the building grinning, but that soon changes when he sees Cas in a heated conversation with someone in the parking lot. It's a guy, some scrawny, brown haired, evil looking kid that seems somewhat familiar to Dean

"There a problem over here?" Dean says with raised eyebrows as he makes his way over to Cas and the guy, who are standing near Cas's motorcycle.

"Dean." Cas turns with wide eyes. "No, there's no problem. Az was just leaving. Right?" He turns back to the guy and glares at him with a blaze of anger that could melt Antarctica.

"Fine. But we're not letting this go, Castiel." The guy - Az was it? - practically snarls his reply, spitting out Cas's name like it's a bad taste in his mouth. With a harsh glare towards Dean, the guy turns and jogs off towards the exit of the parking lot.

"I think I know that dude..." Dean stares after him, trying to place him.

"Probably." Cas runs a hand through his black hair with a drained look on his face. "He plays for the Edlund High baseball team."

"Oh yea!" Dean snaps his fingers. "That's it! He's the third baseman I think."

The Edlund High Hell Dogs are their rivals. Almost every year that baseball team ends up in the championship game at the end of the season, and they usually win. This year though, Dean wants nothing more than to cream them.

"Cas. What did he want from you?" Dean inquires as his boyfriend nearly kicks over his bike in frustration. When the boy slams his hands down on the roof of a nearby car, palms down, Dean yells out his name.

"God, sorry." Cas shakes his head and looks at the ground.

Dean smiles softly and reaches out to grip the sleeve of Cas's jacket. "It's fine. Just tell me what that jerk wanted."

"It's my fuckin' dead beat dad. He's owed some guy money for a while now and the guy's son has taken to harassing my brother and I too. Even though it's not at all our fault our father is a screw up. Azazael, Az, he's friends with the son so he kind of helps him you know?" Cas walks the few feet back to his bike, settling down on the leather seat with both legs on one side.

"Was it gambling?" Dean asks.

"No, actually. My dad and this guy were planning on starting a business together. Instead, my dad ran off with all the money and pretty much disappeared for almost four years. When he came back, the money didn't come back with him. Half of it didn't even belong to him."

"Oh." Dean stays silent for a moment. This is another thing he hadn't realized he and Cas had in common, they've both dealt with dead beat fathers. "Who's the guys son?" He asks.

"They call him Lucifer."

Dean scoffs in disbelief. "Lucifer? He's the pitcher for the Hell Dogs. He's basically my arch-rival." He laughs at the irony of it all. "You know," He adds as an after thought, "I never did get why people call him Lucifer."

Cas chuckles. "His real name is Lucius Ferwood. Luci-Fer. Plus it kind of fits his personality, huh?"

Dean, who had started laughing at "Lucius", nods in agreement. "Well, hell, if I had a name like that I wouldn't go by it either." He snorts.

Cas locks eyes with him and soon the both of them are laughing hysterically, Cas nearly sliding off the motorcycle. Why they found it so funny, neither one could say.

When the laughter turns, for the most part, into gasps for air, the two of them decide it's probably time to leave. Dean checks his watch and groans when he sees the time. It's nearly 8:00 and he hasn't eaten a thing, much less started any homework.

"Shit, I gotta go." Dean sighs as Cas's smile turns from one full of laughter to one of disappointment.

"Yes I guess we both should." Cas says as he swings his left leg over the bike to straddle it. He reaches behind him and pulls out a black helmet from the sturdy bag on the back. "C'mere." He waggled a finger at Dean, who grins.

As Dean leans down towards him for a goodbye kiss, Cas reaches up and tugs on his letterman jacket. Cas's lips are soft on his and he smiles into the kiss.

"See ya tomorrow?" Dean murmurs.

Cas hums a yes in response and Dean turns away to find the Impala, still smiling softly.

Dean has barely walked two feet when Cas calls out to him. "Wait." He turns to meet those sparkling blue eyes. Cas smirks as he lounges on his motorcycle, arms dangling over the handle bars and one foot up on the brake.

"I hope you're free Friday night because we've got a date." The smirk grows wider.

"Oh we do, huh?" Dean grins playfully. He was hoping Cas would ask him out again honestly.

"Mhm." Cas says with all the cocky confidence in the world.

"Well lucky for you, Novak, we happen to have Fridays off from baseball." Dean teases then thinks to himself. And thank God for that because if we didn't I might die of exhaustion.

"Yea, lucky for me." Cas smiles, then grips his handlebars, revving up the engine. "I'll text you, babe." And just like that, with a playful salute, he's off.

Dean watches after him and silently thanks whatever higher power there is for everything that's happened since that Friday.


	7. Yesterday

Friday morning, Dean walks into school with Cas's arm slung over his shoulder and a big smile on his face. He seems to be doing a lot more smiling recently, a lot more than before. It's all Cas's doing obviously. Seems the blue eyed boy makes Dean happier just by being in the same room.

The duo have barely walked five feet before about three people stop and congratulate Dean on his win. The Angels had another game last night and Dean now has two wins under his belt for this season. Seeing as he's the "star pitcher" or whatever, people tend to praise him more than the rest of his team no matter how many times he insists that if he didn't have those guys behind him they would be losing every game. All he does is pitch the ball so the other team can hit it, and his teammates get the outs. Except for the strike outs of course, those are all him.

By the time the two of them make it to Dean's locker, five more people have said congratulatory things to the pitcher. Dean sighs as he spins the combination to his locker but pauses when he catches Cas smiling at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I got something on my face?" He grins as he pulls his English binder out of the locker.

"Yea, those cute little freckles of yours." Cas chuckles.

Dean groans as he zips up his bag and slings it over his shoulder. "You're lame." He teases as he closes the locker door and leans up against it. "And I hate these bloody freckles sometimes."

Cas looks genuinely surprised at that. "Okay, uh, why?" He asks, like it's possibly the strangest thing for Dean to say.

Dean shrugs. "Just don't like 'em much. People always comment on them."

"I love your damn freckles, shut up. And people comment on them because they're cute, moron." Cas smirks.

"You're the moron, moron." Dean grumbles at the floor.

"Jesus, Winchester you could cut a man with that wicked sharp wit." Cas laughs as he pushes off the locker and starts to walk backwards down the nearly empty hallway. He beckons with one hand for Dean to follow him.

Dean playfully flips Cas off and begins trailing after him. "You," he says pointing with his index finger. "Suck."

Cas gives him a mockingly sweet smile and a laugh as he grabs for Dean's hand when the boy catches up. Their fingers intertwine and they lean close together while they walk towards Dean's first class. "I do _suck_. Pretty well if I do say so myself." Cas whispers only loud enough for Dean to hear.

Cas wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and Dean groans and smacks his shoulder, unable to stop the pink blush that's spreading over his cheeks.

"Like making you blush." Cas murmurs as they stop outside Dean's classroom.

Dean scrunches up his nose and makes a face at Cas, who laughs and wraps an arm around Dean's waist, pulling him closer and planting a kiss on his cheek.

Dean smiles softly and catches Cas's lips with his as the dark haired boy turns his head. "So," he says as they break apart. "You still planning on that date tonight?"

"'Course I am, babe." Cas grins, but makes an annoyed face when the warning bell rings out, telling them to get to class. "We'll talk at lunch. Kay?"

Dean nods and the two share another quick kiss before Dean disappears into his classroom and Cas saunters off down the hall in the general direction of the class he's supposed to be going to.

-:-:-:-

At 6:00 that night, Dean is running late. The boys had decided at lunch to just hang out Cas's place tonight, and Dean is supposed to be on his way over already. _But_ , he's not because Ellen and Bobby decided to sit him down after dinner and give him the whole speech about "be safe, be responsible, blah blah blah." So it's almost 6:30 by the time Dean is revving up the engine of the Impala and heading off towards the address Cas had written on the back of his hand at lunch, right before he kissed him. Dean smiles at the memory and presses a bit harder on the gas pedal, eager to see the blue eyed boy soon.

Dean finds the house after fifteen minutes of driving. He slows to a stop in front of a little white house with blue shutters. It's a cute little place with a stone pathway surrounded by flowers leading up to the front door. Once again, Dean can't help the surprise he feels at this image. He wonders, not for the first time, why and how Cas got the reputation that he does.

When he goes to knock on the front door, he smiles as he sees a pretty wooden angel hanging from a hook on the door; it holds a sign saying simply "welcome." Dean's hand is raised in a fist, knuckles inches away from the door when it's suddenly wrenched open from inside and a grinning Cas appears. The boy stands there in black sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a white t-shirt, he's barefoot and his hair is a mess and Dean thinks he never looked better. Dean, eyes sparkling, opens his mouth to say hi but is cut off when Cas puts a finger to his lips, shushing him. The dark haired boy reaches out a hand a grabs the collar of Dean's jacket, dragging him inside.

"Brother's passed out on the couch and I don't feel like dealing with a hung over Gabe so sh." He whispers when Dean is close enough to hear. Cas's hand slips into Dean's and soon he's being dragged through the house and up a set of stairs. As they pass by what must be the living room, Dean catches a glimpse of the back of a couch with a pair of legs hanging off the end. _Must be Gabe_ , he thinks, and briefly wonders where Cas's mom is.

"This is mine." Cas bites his lip when they reach the end of the upstairs hallway and stop in front of the last bedroom. Dean grins when they enter the room, Cas still worrying his lip in a rare display of shyness. The place is painted a light blue and the walls are covered with posters from different bands, shows, and movies. The dark blue sheets on the bed aren't made, which isn't a surprise, and an old acoustic guitar leans against the side of a dresser.

"I have that poster. And that one." Dean says laughing, pointing first at a Def Leppard poster and then at one of Robert Plant performing on stage.

"Really?" Cas seems pleased.

"Yea. That picture's hot." Dean chuckles, talking about the one of the lead singer of Led Zeppelin.

"Not as hot as me." Cas teases, falling backwards onto his bed with his arms folded behind his head. Dean rolls his eyes with a small smile on his face. Instead of replying, he points to the guitar.

"Didn't know you play." He grins, then settles down on the edge of Cas's bed, near his feet.

"There's a lot of things you don't know." Castiel chuckles and shrugs. "Just like there's a lot about you I don't know." He pauses for a second and then adds. "Yet."

"Yet." Dean repeats with a smile, liking the sound of that. Eyes on the guitar, Dean opens his mouth to say something else but is cut off by the sound of a door opening and a loud thump downstairs.

"What was that?" Dean looks in the direction of the slightly open bedroom door.

"Hang on." Cas springs up off the bed and heads towards the door. "Stay here?" He waits until Dean nods before disappearing down the hall.

While Cas is gone, Dean gets up and starts to wander around the room, smiling again as he looks at all the posters. "Oo!" He can't help but exclaim to himself when he finds a stack of records next to the dresser, where he couldn't see them from the bed. He sits cross-legged on the floor next to the pile and gets halfway through it before Cas comes back into the room.

"Hi." Cas says, smiling inexplicably.

Dean laughs and gets up from the floor. "Hey?" He says with a questioning tone. "What was it?" He asks, talking about the noise.

"My mom's home is all. She's been working too much lately I'm just glad she's home." Cas says, biting his lip.

Dean feels a rush of nervousness at Cas's reply, seeing as it's probably time to meet the mother now and that can always be a bit nerve racking. _"What if she doesn't like me?"_ He thinks anxiously. But despite his nervousness, Dean can't help but smile when he looks at Cas. The other boy just seems so happy when he talks about his mom.

"Castiel honey?" Both boys whip around towards the door at the sound of a soft female voice coming from the end of the hall.

Dean's eyes widen against his will, showing his slight panic at the fact that he has no idea if Cas's mom knows her son has a boyfriend that's currently in his bedroom. Cas glances at Dean and busts out laughing at the expression on his face.

"Relax Dean, she knows." Cas gasps out between laughs. Dean rolls his eyes and smacks Cas on the shoulder.

Cas, still chuckling, goes out into the hall and soon returns with a pretty, middle aged, brown haired woman trailing behind him. The first thing Dean notices is her eyes, they're the same bright blue as her son's. Her brown hair is twisted up into a bun on her head and she wears a pink nurses outfit. The slight lines around her eyes are proof that she smiles a lot, despite the tough times Dean knows she's faced. Those smile lines deepen and her eyes sparkle when she spots Dean standing awkwardly near the bed.

"You must be Dean!" She exclaims, striding forward and clasping one of Dean's hands in both of hers. "Cas was right, you're very handsome!" Dean laughs out loud and smiles at Cas, who's groaning and actually _blushing_ a bit.

Dean smiles down at the woman who barely reaches his chest. "Hi, Mrs. Novak."

She waves her hand and shakes her head. "Oh please, call me Grace okay hun? No need to be formal."

Dean has barely nodded yes before Cas's bedroom door is opened wider and a kind of short young man tumbles into the room.

"Ma!" he exclaims, enveloping Grace in a hug and she laughs and pats the guy on the back.

"Jesus, Gabe you smell like a sewer." Cas scrunches up his nose and waves a hand in front of his face.

"Ah, Little Bro, so nice to see you." The guy, Gabe, let's go of Grace and throws an arm around Cas's shoulders, earning an eye roll. It's kind if a funny sight, seeing as Gabe is a few inches shorter than Castiel.

Dean watches all of this quietly, feeling immensely confused. Then, Gabe catches sight of him and raises an eyebrow. His hazel eyes sparkle with a mischievous look that Dean doesn't think he likes the look of on the smaller guy, but he meet's the guy's gaze with raised eyebrows of his own.

Gabe cracks a grin and wiggles his eyebrows. "Ooo, Cassie, who's this hunk?"

Cas groans. "This." He says as he does a weird little twist to get out from under Gabe's arm. "Is Dean." He steps backwards towards Dean until he's standing in between him and Gabe.

"Dean, this is Gabriel. My older brother." Cas gestures to his brother with a sigh and Dean can't help but chuckle as he holds out a hand to shake. Gabe must be a handful.

"Well gosh Cassy." Gabriel clutches a hand to his chest like Cas's words hurt him. "Ya don't gotta seem so happy about it!" Gabe's voice drips with sarcasm and he turns to grin at Dean, thrusting a hand out to shake Dean's.

"Call me Gabe. And don't let his grumpy face fool you, Cas loves me. Don't ya Cas?" Cas rolls his eyes but shrugs, kind of like he's admitting the truth of that statement. "SO!" Gabe exclaims as he reaches a hand into his jeans pocket and pulls out a hard candy. He pops it in his mouth and grins at Dean again, who shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, not really sure what's actually going on because wow this Gabe is interesting.

"Gabe." Grace speaks up from behind her son where she had been quietly watching the whole meeting with a slight smile on her face. "Honey why don't you leave the poor guy alone and we'll go downstairs and give them some privacy. I think we're probably starting to freak Dean out a bit." She chuckles while Dean hastily tries to reassure her that she has done no such thing. She waves him off and grabs Gabe, practically dragging him behind her out of the room. "Have fun!" She yells back to Dean and Cas.

As soon as he hears the duo head down the stairs, Castiel collapses backwards onto his bed with a groan. "And _that_ , is totally not how I wanted you to meet them." He says, eyes on the ceiling and arms splayed out on the sheets.

Dean chuckles and settles down on one corner of Cas's bed. He shoves aside one of Cas's legs and bends his own legs to sit Native American style right next to the dark haired boy who still stares up at the ceiling where a Jimmy Page poster is grinning down. "I like them. Your mom is sweet." Dean smiles at Cas as one hand absently plays with a loose string on the blue comforter.

Cas picks his head up briefly to meet Dean's eyes before he settles back down again, a hint of a smile in his face. "Mom is great. She's so strong, you know? I don't know how she does it. Dealing with my brother and me. We're tough sons to have to raise on her own but she's doing it." Cas says all this with his eyes still on the poster above him, like its easier for him to say this looking at the ceiling then at Dean. Dean smiles to himself because he knows he's the first person Cas has ever really opened up to besides his family, he can see it in Cas's hesitation and nervousness when he finally turns to meet Dean's eyes.

Dean bites his lip, unsure if he should ask what he's about to. "Your dad is he...gone for good? Did he leave again?"

Cas laughs shortly like he's thinking of a bitter memory. Dean grimaces, thinking he made the wrong choice in saying that until Cas's hand finds one of his and squeezes it, letting him know it's fine. "He didn't leave, mom kicked him out. He had been home from his disappearing act for about a week when he got so drunk he hit Gabe. I went after him, nearly got hit over the head with a fuckin' beer bottle in the process before my mom stepped him. She always had this ability to calm him down without even raising her voice. she can do that with anyone really. But anyway, she just grabbed his arm and told him real calm like 'you get out of this house and don't you ever lay a hand on my sons ever again', so he left. I've only seen him a few times since. Always at bars." Cas shakes his head, his hair getting even more mussed up by the comforter underneath. "When he left it felt like freedom. Like this huge responsibly or something had lifted off my shoulders and I could fly and be free and do whatever the hell I wanted."

Dean exhales a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. _Wow,_ is all he thinks. He gets it now, why Cas is so withdrawn and doesn't open up much. Dean is the same way, the only people besides his family who know his whole story are Lisa and Benny. He takes another deep breath before he settles down next to Cas. He catches a smile on Cas's face as the blue eyed boy scoots over to make room for Dean. They lay there side by side on Cas's bed with their hands intertwined in between them when Dean opens his mouth to speak.

"I've only told two people about my parents." He starts. This time it's him looking up at the Jimmy Page poster instead of the person he's speaking to. Out of the corner of his eye Dean sees Cas turn his head to look at him but he doesn't return the gaze. "When I was four and Sammy was two, there was a fire in Sammy's room. My mom ran in there to get him but Sam had been downstairs with me instead of in bed like he was supposed to be. Mom didn't know that. She got caught in the flames and died even though my dad tried to save her. So it ended with Sammy and me hugging each other outside of our burning house, not really understanding what the hell was going on, while Dad screamed his head off at every fireman and police man trying to get someone to save his wife. She was already gone though. Anyway, that tore him apart. He started drinking and let me tell you, a drunk raising two young boys is not good. Around when I was ten or eleven, Bobby and Ellen decided that Dad just couldn't raise us anymore. Half the time he was off drunk and the other half he was screaming at us or...worse." Dean pauses at that, and Cas just grips his hand tighter. "So after this huge legal fight he finally gave them custody of me and Sammy and so they've raised us like their own. Ellen's girl Jo is the same age as Sam. Dad left about a year later and I haven't seen or heard from him since. All he left was his Impala and a leather jacket, both if which are now mine. Sometimes I used to look at them and pretend my dad was some hero that died and left me his legacy. It's bullshit but it helped when I was young." Dean smiles sadly, all of those memories rushing to the surface in a way they hadn't for a very long time. "But hey," he says, finally turning his head to meet Cas's sapphire gaze with a smile. "It's like you said. when my dad left it felt like freedom."

Cas laughs and leans forward to press a kiss to Dean's lips. "I got my first tattoo when my dad left." Cas says suddenly, biting his lip. Dean raises his eyebrows and can't help but smile and think how freaking glad he is Cas got his tattoos because damn they're hot. Dean looks down at Cas's arm, the one settled right next to him. He twists until he lays on his side, his hand releasing Cas's so he can lean his head on it instead. With his other hand he hesitantly starts tracing the few tattoos inked onto Cas's arm. "Which one?" He murmurs as his fingers trace a design that winds around Cas's bicep.

Cas smirks, seeming to like Dean's sudden boldness. "Wings." He says. "I got wings tattooed on my back." Cas's eyes lock onto Dean's, which have widened in slight surprise.

Cas's smirk switches to a full on grin and he sits up suddenly, Dean's hand falling onto the comforter. "Wanna see?" Cas cocks his head with a playful look on his face, fingers playing with the hem of his cotton tee shirt.

Dean bites his lip and nearly groans in frustration when he feels a blush spread over his cheek. _C'mon Winchester, stop seeming so frigging innocent,_ he scolds himself silently. But at the same time, Dean can't help but think about how technically he's a virgin when it comes to the whole...gay thing. Plus, Cas is really, really hot. Dean tries to pretend this whole internal conflict didn't happen so he smirks and says simply, "duh."

Cas laughs, throwing his head back, then wriggles out of his cotton tee shirt. Dean doesn't even bother stopping his sharp intake of breath at the sight of those black designs that litter Cas's toned stomach and chest, which Dean had only ever been able to see outlines through Cas's tees. Dean only has a quick second to take in the tattoos, not enough time to really see what each one is, before Cas is sliding around so his back is to Dean. Cas settles into a cross legged position while Dean slowly sits up and goes to kneel behind him, legs tucked up under him. Dean lets out a soft breath that accidentally flows over Cas, who visibly shivers. One of Dean's hands lifts up to trace his fingers lightly over the huge, black ink of the gorgeous angel wings that spread across Cas's upper back. Each wing seemingly sprouts from a shoulder blade, and ends around mid-bicep. The intricate feathers flow to almost the middle of Cas's back and Dean is basically in awe.

" _This_ was your _first_ tattoo?!" Dean asks incredulously, fingers still tracing every inch of the ink. He can't imagine it would have been easy, getting something so big the first time.

Cas chuckles, shoulders moving up and down. "Yea. I mean, I got the outlines first and then filled them in later." He picks up his arm and pokes the bit of the tattoo that spreads over the back of his shoulder and arm. "You shoulda seen the look on Meg's face when she saw this little 16 year old come in and ask for something so big." He laughs again.

"Meg?" Dean questions.

"Tattoo artist who did it for me. She and her dad Crowley run the place. They've sort of become like a second family to me since I started going in there so much." Cas shrugs, still facing away from Dean.

Dean hums, still fascinated by the wings. He realizes with a jolt that he's still lightly tracing them. He drops his hand with a laugh and apologizes. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine." Dean can tell he's smiling. "Feels nice." Cas says.

So Dean starts up again, until Cas turns to face him and his hand ends up sliding along until falling to rest on Cas's chest. The two share a smile before Cas leans forward and closes the gap between them. Their lips meet in a soft, sweet kiss, and they savor it, not looking for anything more than the comfort of each other's arms and loving the fact that they can open up to each other.

Dean breaks away first, and Cas whines and tries to chase him. Dean laughs and lightly pushes on Cas's bare chest, keeping him at bay. He smiles warmly at his boyfriend and his eyes once again roam over the boy's inked body. "Well, I didn't go and get tattoos but I did start to sing." He says.

Cas cocks his head in confusion. "Hmm?"

Dean chuckles and shakes his head. "When your dad left, you put what you felt into designs on your skin. Like the wings, you felt free. When my dad left, I poured my emotions into music. I sang more, I learned different instruments, I even wrote some songs, except it all sucked." He laughs at the last bit and Cas smiles too.

Cas's eyes dart of to the side and Dean follows his gaze to the acoustic guitar where it leans against the dresser. Cas grins. "I didn't say the _only_ thing I did was get tattoos. I play too."

Dean's eyes light up and he bounces off the bed, much to Cas's surprise.

"Uh, oh." Cas chuckles when he sees Dean going for the guitar.

Dean gently picks up the guitar and goes to settle back down on the soft bed. "Shut up." He laughs, then holds the pretty, wooden instrument out towards Cas like an offering. Hesitantly he asks, "Will you play? For me?"

Cas's smile falters slightly for a moment and he bites his lip. Then, his eyes flash and he smirks. "Only if you sing."

Dean's eyes widen and he groans. "Ohh smooth Novak." Castiel laughs and gives Dean a look that says 'I know, I know'.

Cas reaches out and finally takes the guitar from Dean, setting it into position like he'd been doing it his whole life, first turning it over to shake out the pick that was inside. "Hey, I don't play for anyone, and you rarely sing for anyone but the guys in that cafe, so if we're gonna step out of our comfort zones then we might as well step together, huh?"

Dean smiles softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in happiness. "Deal."

"Alright." Cas says, and the two of them sit cross-legged, facing each other with their knees bumping. Dean studies Cas as the boy's long fingers settle over the strings, pick in his right hand. Cas pauses right before he starts to play and glances up at Dean. "You like the Beatles?" He asks, cocking his head.

Dean scoffs and raises an eyebrow. "Of frigging course."

Cas laughs and looks down at the guitar. "Cool. This was the first full song I learned."

When Cas starts to play, it takes Dean only a few seconds to recognize the song. His face is split by a huge grin that disappears only when he starts to sing.

_"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they're here to stay."_ His voice is soft, sweet. It's one of Dean's favorite songs and he sings with a small smile on his face despite the sad meaning of the song.

Dean watches Cas play as he sings, loving the peaceful look that spreads over his face. For Dean, music is like therapy, and something tells him that's true for Cas too.

Near the end of the song, right before the last verse, Cas starts to sing as well, and their voices seem to go together perfectly. At the first sound of Cas's slightly deeper tone, Dean wrenches his gaze up to meet Cas's. Emerald eyes meet sapphire ones and as chick-flicky as it sounds, Dean could swear that sparks metaphorically flew.

_"I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday. Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday."_

Together they hum the ending of the song, fading off into a silence only broken when Cas exhales slowly.

"Holy hot damn we should start a fucking band." Cas says, blue eyes wide.

Dean's stomach feels like it's doing cartwheels and if this is what 'butterflies in your stomach' feels like then oh God, make it stop. He feels almost giddy and it takes an unbelievable amount of self restraint to not push Cas back into the pillows and rip off the rest of his clothes. Luckily, what Cas says wrenches Dean away from those thoughts and he laughs out loud.

Cas sets the guitar aside and practically jumps with an uncharacteristic excitement. "No wait, that's actually brilliant. _We should start a band!"_

Dean stops laughing to give Cas an amused look. "You're serious?"

Cas practically rolls off the bed and stands up, looking down at Dean. "Yes, I'm serious. Think about Dean, we could do it. You could sing, I could play guitar, we could find some other guys for drums and shit. I mean, c'mon, you and me in a band? It'd be the hottest one around. We could end up like Zeppelin, babe!" Cas grins, gesturing wildly at the posters all around his room.

Dean furrows his brow, unsure. "Easier said than done."

_"Dean!"_ Cas practically whines. "I know you've got baseball and all but just think about it. We would rock."

Dean chuckles, warming up to the idea. "We would, wouldn't we." He says. It's a crazy idea. A crazy, unrealistic, spur of the moment idea. But at the same time, it's frigging brilliant, and even if they don't go any where they could still have the time of their lives.

"YEA WE WOULD." Cas practically yells, then we quiets down with a laugh. "Plus, any band with a hot lead singer would get some fans." he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at Dean.

Dean is completely on board with the idea by now. Yea, he thinks, we're gonna start a frigging band!

With a grin, Dean reaches up a hand to grab onto Cas's arm and then he's tugging his ecstatic, shirtless boyfriend back down to the bed. Cas practically falls on top of Dean, who has fallen down on his back. Their lips crash together and Dean ends up with his legs bent at the knee and Cas between them, holding himself up by a hand on either side of Dean's flushed face. Cas stares down at Dean, studying his face before leaning down to kiss him again, this time slower but just as hot. They end up both laying on their sides, legs intertwined and arms wrapped around each other, basically just making out for three minutes straight before Cas breaks away long enough to lock eyes with Dean. His face is flushed an absolutely fantastic shade of red and his black hair is just perfectly messed up by Dean's fingers running through it.

"So," Cas starts. "You down with this band thing?" He says with a chuckle, staring at Dean.

Dean grins and leans forward to plant a quick kiss on Cas's lips before he says in a playful tone, "But what will we _call_ it?"


	8. Mr. Crowley, What Went On in Your Head?

When Dean left Cas's house about two hours later, he left with a promise from Cas that said "we're gonna start this band, baby, and we're gonna go so far." The two boys had somehow managed to stop sucking faces long enough to come up with the perfect new additions to make their duo band into a quartet. The twins, Adam and Michael. Conveniently enough, both of them happen to be fantastic musicians and had taught Cas a lot of what he knows about the guitar. The only question is, can Dean and Cas get them to join?

There's really only one way to find out, and that's to ask. So, before Dean left the quaint little house, he and Cas decided to get together the next day and find the brothers. They figured if they double teamed it, Adam and Michael would probably be more likely to join them.

That's why, at around noon the next day, the two of them find themselves face to face with the twins on the threshold of their shared apartment.

"You're serious?" Was Adam's incredulous answer when he opened the door to find two very excited wanna-be rock stars who had blurted out "we're starting a band and you gotta be in it" as soon as the door swung wide.

"Yes, we're serious! Man, c'mon it's a great idea!" Cas exclaims, earning identical eye rolls from the brothers.

"Look." Dean cuts in. "It sounds crazy, I know, but look at how many bands started in high school and made it! Bon Jovi, U2, Green Day, _The Beatles_ for Christ's sake."

Michael looks at his brother and shrugs. They seem to have a moment of silent communication before the two of them turn back to Dean and Cas and simultaneously state, "We're in."

Cas's mouth drops open in surprise, like he actually wasn't really expecting them to say they'd join. "Don't screw with me here." He says.

Adam laughs and shakes his head. "We're not screwing with you Cas! We'll join you're little band. But where and when do you plan on rehearsing? And what kind of band is this? Actually, I have shit ton of questions-"

Cas holds up a hand and cuts Adam off mid-sentence. "Leave the 'where' to me. We'll call you with the address later today, alright? We'll work out the details later."

At that, with a rare grin on his face, Cas grabs Dean by the hand and tugs him down the hall, leaving in their wake a pair of _very_ confused brothers, who share a look that clearly says "why the hell did we agree to this?"

Dean and Cas nearly skip out of the apartment complex and to Cas's Camaro, that's how excited they are. 

"Where are we headed?" Dean asks Cas as soon as they're back on the road. Dean still doesn't know what Cas's plans are for a rehearsal place, and Dean's curiosity and confusion are about to make him burst.

Cas smiles, "Just wait it's brilliant. I'm a genius. "

"So modest." Dean chuckles and settles back into the leather seat.

Cas smirks, glancing at Dean for a second, "Why deny the truth?"

Dean rolls in eyes in mock exasperation, "Just drive, wise guy." He teases.

Nearly twenty minutes later Cas is pulling into a section of town that Dean has only driven through to get somewhere else. Ellen always said it was a sketchy place. He never really thought so, looking out the car window it really doesn't seem like a bad area at all. It just seems like your typical urban-ish setting in a mostly suburban place.

Cas drives until they find a street filled with small businesses and shops on either side of the road. He pulls the Camaro to a stop in front of a tattoo parlor with the words "White Horse Tattoo" written in curly letters above the door.

A tattoo parlor? Not at all what Dean expected, but then he realizes this must be where Cas gets his ink done.

"Is this..." Dean starts, eyes still studying the parlor as the two leave the car.

"Yup! This is Crowley and Meg's place!" Cas says with an excitement that nearly rivals his child-like giddiness when he first suggested starting a band.

Dean grins at his boyfriends eagerness, loving the way his blue eyes brighten and how he starts to bounce a little on his feet. It's almost a polar opposite from the withdrawn, cool, indifferent Cas that he had known before.

As the boys head towards the parlor, Dean trails behind a little, taking in the little details of the place. There's a flickering, bright green and blue OPEN sign in the window to the right of the door, surrounded by so many posters advertising things like "free beer at Woody's every Friday for people drunk enough to perform their own rendition of a Mariah Carrey song" that it's not even possible to see into the shop. Dean, still chuckling over the Mariah Carrey poster-he's gotta check out this Woody's place one night- smiles even more when he spots a rainbow pride flag in each corner of the two windows. He hasn't even met this Crowley guy yet and already he's winning him over.

Dean turns his eyes away from the flags to find Cas, black leather jacket zipped up tight with one black combat boot propping the door open, smiling softly at Dean. The smile shows mostly in the sparkle of his blue eyes, but Dean has gotten very good at noticing the way the boy's lips just slightly quirk up at the edges, something those who don't know Cas would never see.

Castiel jerks his head towards the inside of the parlor in a "c'mon" sort of gesture. Dean, with a smile on his face reflective of Cas's, is close behind him as the two enter the building.

Inside, the atmosphere is full of the sort of dim light that makes you feel warm and welcome, which was totally not what Dean expected. Of course, what he expected was more along the lines of stereotypical tough biker guys, just released from prison, getting yet another tattoo that only they understand and a lot of weird satanic things on the walls. Why? Who knows, it's just an image that's seeped into his brain from years of listening to whatever mainstream judgmental things the majority of people preach.

The hardwood floor is a faded chestnut, worn down from years of people walking on it, there are three red, leather chairs for those getting their ink done, and the walls (much to Dean's delight) are covered in records and photographs of old bands. 

Dean takes a few steps towards the wall to his right to study what his almost disbelieving eyes would swear is a signed photograph of Ozzy Osburne. He grins and turns to mention it to Cas right as a gruff voice, heavy with an English accent, calls out Cas's name.

"Castiel! What brings you into my fine establishment." Dean turns to lay eyes on a middle-aged man clad in all black, with dark hair and a bit of scruff. The short sleeves of his t-shirt show off the impressive inked sleeve on his left arm and the start of one on his right. The man smiles at the two of them and his eyes show off a sort of mischievous charm.

"Fine establishment? This place?" Cas scoffs and shakes his head but his tone is teasing and his eyes are sparkling as he steps towards the man, who is quite obviously Crowley. 

"Ouch that hurts, boy." Crowley clutches a hand to his chest with a laugh but then spreads his arms wide saying, "C'mere you dumbass." 

Castiel, with a quick glance towards Dean, closes the gap between him and Crowley and the two embrace in a friendly hug. It's clear Cas is still wary about showing Dean the side of him that few people know, even though Dean already knows it exists. 

Crowley releases Cas with a clap on the back and a huge grin. "Who the hell told you it was okay to not stop by for over a month, punk? What's got you so preoccupied!?"

Castiel laughs at Crowley's playful sternness and is that a _blush_ Dean sees spread across Cas's face? Castiel clears his throat and nope, the red flush is gone, Dean must have imagined it. Dean steps forward when Cas turns to look at him and Crowley seems to see him for the first time, understandable considering he was basically hiding in the corner with the Ozzy picture.

Cas reaches out a hand to grip Dean's arm as soon as he's close enough, pulling him to his side like Dean wasn't walking fast enough. Cas's hand slides down the leather of Dean's jacket and his finger's intertwine with Dean's. Crowley grins. 

"This is my, uh-" Cas starts, but doesn't finish because-

"Clarence do you have a _boyfriend?_ Mr. I'm-A-Lone-Wolf-Who-Don't-Need-No-Man Novak has a _boyfriend?_ " A soft, sultry sounding feminine voice sounds from the doorway at the back of the parlor, and the dark red, almost black curtain is pushed aside to reveal a pretty girl in her early twenties with a playful smirk on her face. The mischievous gleam in her dark eyes is hauntingly similar to Crowley's and Dean would guess that this must be Meg. Her pale face splits with a grin and she steps towards them with her dark brown waves bouncing. 

_"Well?"_ She comes to a stop beside Crowley and raises her eyebrows, pink lips twisted up in a knowing smirk. 

Cas sighs and suddenly looks very trapped with both Crowley and his daughter staring at him like they know exactly who Dean is but are just waiting for him to say it out loud so they can tease him endlessly.

Dean decides that maybe this is a good time to speak up. He takes matters into his own hands, figuratively and literally, as he sticks out the hand that Cas isn't grasping to firmly shake Crowley's. "I'm Dean." He states. "I've heard a lot about you."

Crowley has a strong handshake and rough hands. "Mostly bad I hope?" He jokes.

"Well I _know_ you couldn't have heard any good about _me_." Meg smiles facetiously.

Dean chuckles and glances at Cas, who seems to be content with not joining the conversation at all. "Actually, Cas pretty much gushed about you."

"Dean!" Cas exclaims, finally speaking up. 

Meg busts out laughing and Crowley raises his eyebrows incredulously. "He did, did he? Awww." Crowley suddenly whips out an arm and wraps Cas in a light choke-hold, noogying the poor guy 'till his dark hair stands on end.

"Ah!" Cas exclaims, wrenching himself out of Crowley's grip. "Stop it, man!"

"Oh sorry did I mess up your hair?" Crowley teases. 

"You're an ass." 

"But you _gushed_ about us, Clarence!" Meg laughs and sticks her hands in the pocket of her jeans and nudges her father with her elbow. "Maybe he does appreciate us."

Castiel groans and palms his face while Dean stands at his side laughing because he has never, in his life, been around two people with personalities more sarcastic and teasing than these two. 

"Okay!" Cas holds up his hands in surrender. "Okay, I didn't gush per se, but I'm not totally an asshole. I- I appreciate what you've done for me over the years Crowley."

Meg's pink-lipped mouth drops wide open and Crowley's eyes show a substantial amount of surprise. 

Cas shifts awkwardly on his feet. "Stop looking at me like that." He mumbles. Dean watches the scene with a bit of confusion, not understanding why the two are so shocked. 

Crowley steps forward and grips Cas's shoulder, this time his smile is completely sincere, not an ounce of teasing in it. Then, he does the same to Dean and says, "Thank you." 

Dean gives him a confused look. "For what?"

"Obviously being with you has changed Castiel. In a good way. Two or three years I've known him. We've picked him up when he was too drunk to see straight and didn't want his mom to know, I made sure he knew exactly what he was doing when he came in here wanting to permanently mark his skin, and then I did it myself, we helped him when he made some rather bloody moronic mistakes and never once did he say he _appreciated_ it. We know he did, but hell, it would've been nice to hear it. Last time I saw this boy he was on his way to some party, already drunk, and he was the same withdrawn, unsociable, punk that he'd always been. Then suddenly he shows up with a boyfriend- Cas never was the 'boyfriend' type- and he's saying thank you so I'm saying thank you because I know it was you."

Dean is completely speechless. Really, what is one supposed to say in a situation like this? You're welcome? He didn't go into this relationship with Cas looking to change him, he hadn't even realized he had. In the whole scheme of things, Dean still barely knows Castiel at all. He knows what he needs to know and the whole 'dark back story' bit will be learned later. He's admittedly glad, however, that he's evidently managed to change his bad-boy boyfriend for the better and in doing so, automatically gets on the good side of two very important people in Cas's life. 

_I thought meeting the family was supposed to be hard_ , Dean thinks with humor.

Cas clears his throat loudly. "Ahem! Could you maybe not talk about me like I'm not here?" 

Crowley chuckles and ruffles Cas's hair, which does nothing considering it was already standing on end from before. "Sorry punk."

"No you're not." Cas laughs. "Crowley I really am thankful, you know. I mean, you two are weird as hell, Meg especially-"

"Hey!"

"-but you've been there for me when I needed people who weren't the ones obligated to help me because they're family."

Crowley shakes his head. "Nope this is too weird I don't believe it. What do you want?"

Meg and Dean both laugh at his statement but Castiel throws up his arms in exasperation. "Why can't I say thank you without you think I want something!"

Meg, still laughing, answers for her father. "Because you don't say thank you! Not in words, anyway. We gotta let this sink in."

"Seriously though," Crowley rumbles. "What do you want, kid." 

"Nothing!"

Crowley's raised eyebrow and a bitch face that reminds Dean of Sammy shows that he's just not taking that for an answer.

Castiel sighs and Dean chuckles, remembering what they came here to ask. "Alright fine, Dean and I wa-"

"Knew it!" Meg sing songs, bobbing her head. 

"Shut it, Meg. _Anyway_ , Dean and I are starting a band." Cas states simply.

Crowley barks out a laugh, probably thinking this is a joke. When he sees the dead serious expression on Cas's face however, he looks impressed. "So you're finally gonna sing for something other than you're shower head huh?"

"I don't sing in the shower." Cas grumbles. 

"Oh yea, and I'm actually Captain America." Crowley counters in his extremely not-American accent.

Dean laughs, earning himself a look from Cas. He smiles playfully at him, and Cas shows his mature side by sticking out his tongue. 

Crowley chuckles. "So did you just stop by to tell us this or..."

"We need a place to practice." Cas shrugs.

"Ah, there it is." Crowley nods.

Cas clicks his tongue and says, "Well I know you've got the basement and it's got pretty decent acoustics, I remember from that one party, and-"

"You can have it, Cas." Crowley grins. 

Cas, stopped mid sentence, looks relatively surprised at Crowley's answer, and then his expression turns to one of joy, like he hadn't let himself fully hope that Crowley would say yes but now that he has...

"Yes!" Cas exclaims, fist pumping the air in a rare display of emotion. "I should thank you more often." He jokes. 

Crowley rolls his eyes. "You can have it on one condition." 

"Shit." Cas states, and Dean laughs.

"When you two are famous you'd better tell everyone you started out in the basement of the White Horse Tattoo parlor and if you don't rave about me and my lovely daughter we're coming after you."

Castiel throws back his head in laughter and shakes his head in disbelief. "Done." He states.

The two shake on it and then Cas turns to Dean.

"So, babe, it looks like we got ourselves a rehearsal spot."


	9. Born to Be My Baby

The next day, Sunday, the sun has barely peeked over the horizon before Dean's phone is vibrating like crazy and wrenching him from a very good nights sleep. His quickly fading dream was one of bright stage lights, guitar rifts, and screaming fans. Without even lifting his head, Dean sleepily reaches out a hand to fumble around for his phone on his nightstand. His alarm clock and his wallet accidentally end up on the floor before his fingers finally brush over what he's looking for. Dean rubs his sleep heavy eyes and hits the big green button that answers the phone and puts a stop to the infernal vibrating.

"Hmmph?" Dean mutters by way of answer, not knowing who it is on the other line as he didn't even bother looking.

_"Wake the hell up you lazy shit."_

Dean, whose eyes had drifted shut again, lets out an indignant huff. "Caas." He nearly whines, "Why are you calling me at the ass-crack of dawn?"

He hears Cas laugh through the phone and the sound is enough to make a lazy smile cross his face.

_"Just get out of bed I'll be at your house in five."_ Cas states, and abruptly hangs up the phone, leaving Dean with a confused response hanging on his tongue.

"Alright then." Dean mutters, but proceeds to drag himself out of bed, wondering what the hell Cas is up to so early in the morning. He grabs a pair of gray sweatpants from the pile of clean clothes he swore to Ellen he was going to put away like a week ago and pulls them up over his boxers. 

With his light brown hair sticking every which way, not that he knows that it is seeing as he couldn't be bothered to look in a mirror, Dean treks down the stairs to pour himself a bowl of cereal. He looks at the digital clock atop the fridge as he puts the milk away and rolls his eyes. It's barely six in the morning, not even Bobby is awake this early on a Sunday.

But sure enough, five minutes after he hung up on Dean, Cas is pulling into the driveway, pulling past the worn out Singer Auto sign. Dean knows he's there before even checking out the window, the sound of a motorcycle is pretty unmistakable. 

Dean, bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios in hand, swings open the front door just as Cas is reaching up to knock, just as Cas had done to him two days before.

"Hey." Dean grunts around a mouthful of food, then motions with his spoon for the other boy to come in. 

Dean turns and walks back towards the kitchen saying, "Close the door behind you, but be quiet everyone else is asleep." Then, turning with a smirk, "Just like every other sane person should be."

Cas rolls his blue eyes, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen to lean against the door frame. He folds his arms over his chest and crosses his legs at the ankles, a stance he seems quite fond of.

Dean has settled in at the kitchen table, leaning over his half-gone breakfast. He's shoveled three spoon fulls into his mouth before he looks back up at Cas and finds the other boy's blue eyes locked on him.

"Hmmph?" He questions, not bothering to swallow before he tries to talk. 

There's a smirk on Cas's lips. "Aren't you cold?" He raises an eyebrow.

For the first time, Dean realizes that he didn't put a shirt on when he got out of bed. Oops. He feels an involuntary flush heat up his face but he shakes it off. He decides to drop his spoon in the leftover milk and lean back in his chair, one arm resting on the back of it. Dean knows he's built decently, he is an athlete after all, and he definitely knows this way of sitting is putting his muscles on full display.

Dean returns Cas's smirk with one of his own, "Aren't you a bit hot?" He's talking about the signature black leather jacket wrapped around his boyfriend, but Cas can take it any way he pleases.

Then, Dean's heart begins pounding about a million times a minute as Cas hums in response and pushes off the door frame. The dark haired boy makes his way across the kitchen, shedding the black jacket and slinging it over his shoulder as he goes. And suddenly Cas is leaning against the kitchen table just to the left of Dean, looking for all the world like a model in those tight black jeans, gray t-shirt, and that dumb fucking jacket over his shoulder.

Dean grins up at Castiel as the other boy wiggles his way in front of Dean, between his legs, back against the edge of the table. 

Cas drops the jacket to the table. "Better?" He rumbles, low in his throat.

A brief thought of _"oh my God, this is not how I expected this to go when I said that"_ crosses Dean's mind before he reaches up a hand and lightly tugs on the bottom of Cas's shirt. Cas smiles, leans down, and their lips meet in a soft kiss. It's the kind of kiss that could build to more.

Dean's rough hands find themselves rested on Cas's hips, and Cas's hands are cupping his freckled face. The thumb of Dean's right hand brushes up underneath Cas's shirt and he loves even that small feeling of the other boy's skin on his.

The kiss deepens, and Dean doesn't know where this might be leading. He knows he wants more. More of what? Of kissing, of Cas? He decides on both, whatever that means. 

Dean slides his hands up Cas's shirt, afraid for a moment that they might be cold, but he soon forgets that thought when he hears Cas sigh softly. 

But then, suddenly, Cas breaks off the kiss and jerks his head towards the doorway of the kitchen. "Dean, I thiink someone's coming down the stairs." 

Dean nearly gets his hands caught in Cas's shirt in his haste to separate from him as he mutters a swear word for whoever it is that decided to wake from the dead and interrupt them. Cas practically spins away from Dean and the table, grabbing his jacket and quickly pulling it back on. Dean has hopped up and scurried over to the sink and is rinsing out his cereal bowl when Bobby treads into the kitchen in slippers and a robe over his pajamas.

Bobby stops short at the doorway when he sees the boys already in there. "Cas..." He nods in hello towards the one boy who isn't supposed to be there, eyebrows raised in question.

"Bobby!" Dean says a bit louder than he means to, hoping to God he isn't flushed red but from the smirk on Cas's face he's pretty sure God decided not to take pity on him today.

Bobby shuffles over to the fridge and pulls out the carton of eggs saying, "Care to tell me why your boyfriend is in my kitchen so early in the morning?"

Dean opens his mouth to reply but Cas beats him to it, "Sorry, Mr. Singer. I just kind of showed up without much warning to Dean, I hope you don't mind."

Bobby chuckles. "Nah I don't mind. As long as you boys ain't getting into any trouble..." He sends a stern look Dean's way and the boy gives him the typical "c'mon I'm not a moron" look that teens do so wonderfully.

Bobby snorts at Dean's expression and busies himself with the sunny-side up eggs he's begun making. The kitchen falls silent except for the sizzle of the frying pan until Cas catches Dean's eye and jerks his head towards the door. 

"Uhh, right." Dean starts, "Cas and I are going out. I'm not sure how long we'll be gone." He's not even sure where they're going actually. Cas isn't very skilled at giving out details.

Bobby doesn't look up from his eggs. "Mhm, okay. Have fun, keep in touch."

Dean starts walking across the kitchen towards Cas and the doorway.

"Dean." Bobby stops him, still not looking up. "Were you planning on putting clothes on?"

Dean stops dead in his tracks and looks down at his bare torso and sweatpants.

"Oh, right."

-:-:-:-:-

An hour later Dean and Cas are standing in the wooden-floored basement of White Horse Tattoo with matching smiles on their faces. The dimly lit room is pretty much completely covered in posters and pictures and the parts of the walls that aren't are a dark blue color. There's a cherry red drum set nestled in the corner and various guitars line the right wall.

Dean scans every inch of the place and whispers a simple, "Wow."

Cas hangs his jacket over a chair right by the door as he says, "The drum set was already here. Crowley plays sometimes. Adam and I brought in the guitars last night; some are mine, one was my brother's, and those two," he points towards an acoustic guitar covered in stickers and a light blue bass guitar, "are Adam and Michael's." 

Dean stands taking in everything with an expression that can only be described as awe. "This is incredible."

Cas grins, "We're gonna rock."

Dean laughs and grabs for Cas's hand, pulling his boyfriend to him. "We don't even know if we're any good yet." 

Cas rolls his eyes, "That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard." His hand travels up to Dean's cheek. "Any band would be good with your voice as lead."

Dean is starting to get really sick of the way his face flushes every time Cas says something cute unexpectedly, or just looks at him actually. _I feel like such a girl,_ he thinks to himself as he feels the heat in his cheeks yet again.

Now it's Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "You know, you wouldn't know it just looking at you but you are a _huuge_ sap Castiel."

"Ohh fuck off." Cas drops his hand, pretending to be pissed. 

A voice from the doorway of the room cuts off Dean's laughter. "Well aren't you two just disgustingly cute."

The boys turn to see Adam strolling into the basement with Michael trailing behind him adding, "I don't think I'm ever going to get over seeing Cas actually acting like a human being with a heart and a conscience around someone who wasn't his mother." 

"You." Cas points a finger accusingly at Michael. "Can fuck off too." He turns with a huff and walks over to the line of guitars against the wall.

He heads straight towards a sleek black one, an electric guitar that Dean thinks he remembers catching a glimpse of Friday night when he was at Cas's place. Cas pulls the black strap over his head and turns to the other three boys with a grin. 

"So, we doing this?" His eyes dart over to the twins, seemingly challenging them to turn and walk out. His eyes say "you have no idea what you'll miss out on if you walk out now."

This time it's Michael who grins, brushing past Cas and heading straight to the cherry red drum set settled in the corner. He grabs the sticks off the stool and plops himself down, turning to look at Cas and say, "Well I'm ready." 

Adam, now just as eager as the rest of them, makes a beeline to the blue bass guitar and slings it on. Cas has knelt down by an amp off to the side and is busy plugging in his guitar.

Dean watches all of this with a smile and he's glad that they decided to do this. Who knows if their band, which doesn't even have a name yet, is ever going to make it out of the basement stage. But really, all the four of them want right now is to get lost in the music they love.

Castiel has turned to Dean with a mic in his hand and he's offering it to him with the sort of smile that shines mostly in his eyes. Their fingers brush as Dean takes it from him, and when Dean looks at the scene before it's as if everything has clicked into place. There's Cas right in front of him, one hand on his guitar, and then Adam off to the right, tuning his, and Michael at the drums, looking right at home with the drumsticks in his hands.

_This feels right,_ Dean thinks. _This is exactly what we're meant to do._

It's Cas who throws out a song suggestion, Born to Be My Baby by Bon Jovi. He might have imagined it, but Dean is pretty sure Cas looked right at him when he suggested it. The newly formed band spends the rest of their day learning how each of them plays, how much they know, and how well their styles of playing fit together.

Hint: they fit very well.

Dean wonders if this was what it was like for all the great bands the first time they played together. Did they click like this? Was it like it was just meant to happen, or are him and the guys just lucky?

Dean finds himself staring at Cas a bit longer than he means to every time they meet eyes, and he's almost one hundred percent sure Cas is having the same kind of problem. If you can call that a problem. But it definitely isn't an accident when Dean locks eyes with Cas as he sings certain Bon Jovi lyrics...

_You were born to be my baby, and baby I was made to be your man. We got something to believe in, even if we don't know where we stand...._


	10. Comfortably Numb

When Coach Milton and the guys on his team first told Dean that they figured this season was looking like it'd be his best yet, Dean just chuckled and shrugged. But now, he watches with satisfaction as the fastball he fired down to Benny squatting behind home plate whizzes past the batter at what has to be almost 90 miles per hour. Dean smirks as the rival player up to bat stands there in shock, staring back at the ball in Benny's glove. He had swung, and he had missed by a mile.

"Strike three!" Yells the umpire for the thirteenth time that night. Thirteen strikeouts in one game is pretty impressive, if Dean does say so himself.

The batter walks back to his team's dugout shaking his head in disbelief, but all around him the Carver High Angels are whooping and clapping Dean on the back in congratulations, they've just won their first game of the playoffs.

Benny shoulders his way into the group of guys surrounding Dean and grins, shaking his glove hand out as if in pain, like Dean's last pitch really packed a punch.

"Damn, Winchester, don't ya think you could've pitched like this last year?" Benny chuckles.

Dean, ever so modest, just shrugs and smiles lightly. "I don't know where this is coming from, man."

"I do." Ash chimes in with a teasing smile on his face, and nods his head towards the stands.

"Oh, shut up." Dean rolls his eyes. Ash is gesturing right towards where Cas is lounging in the stands, just like he does nearly every game now, even when the game is at the rival team's field. 

Dean's teammates share a laugh at the expense of his blushing face, but Dean can't help but smile as he keeps his eyes latched on Cas during the short walk to home plate, where his team shakes hands with the team they just clobbered.

Dean heads into the away team dugout amid a whole lot of playful shoving and goofing off among his teammates. He's only half focused on wrestling his equipment back into his bag as his mind begins to wander to the boy waiting for him in the stands.

He and Cas have been together for a month now. Actually, today is technically their one month "anniversary" or whatever, but he and Cas don't have anything planned. They had talked about it the day before, but neither of them are the type to celebrate small dates like one month. Dean smiles to himself as he remembers what Cas said to him at the end of their conversation.

_"I'm not going to take you on a date tomorrow. I'm not going to buy you a fancy dinner just because we've made it one month together. Lots of couples make it through one month, it's not hard to do if you care about the person. But I will take you on a date the day of our three year anniversary. And I will buy you a fancy dinner, and a whole lot more than that, when we've been together seven years. We're going to have a lot of time to celebrate, Dean, there's no need to cram it all in at the start."_

Dean had stared at him speechless for quite longer than he meant to, wondering how in the world he managed to end up with a boy so... there's not a word for what Dean thinks of Cas. Incredible? Unpredictable? No, none seem to be the right one. Cas would know of a good word, he's better with words than Dean is. 

Cas had only shrugged and gave Dean a small smile, like what he just said was a "no big deal" sort of thing. Like he didn't just basically say he intends to spend a _very_ long time with Dean. Dean chuckles now as he remembers how he had rolled his eyes so hard he almost gave himself a headache and then grabbed Cas's face and pulled him into a long kiss. Dean isn't good with words, so he tried his best to make that kiss say everything he couldn't. 

"Hey, slowpoke." A voice jolts him out of the memory and he turns to find Cas grinning at him.

"You gonna be ready to go sometime in the next two years?" Cas teases.

Dean looks around the dugout and realizes nearly everyone but Coach Milton has already cleared out; he can hear them a way's away, laughing and cheering on their way up to the bus that will take them back to Carver High.

"Thanks for coming." Dean says with a smile as he slings his equipment bag over his shoulder. 

"You gonna thank me after every game?"

Dean only smiles. He hadn't actually realized he'd been doing that. But what can he say? He likes seeing Cas up there in the stands, and maybe he's not just thanking Cas for being there, maybe he's thanking the universe for allowing him to be. Is that lame? That was lame.

Cas holds out his hand; Dean raises an eyebrow at it. Cas is almost never the one who initiates affection in public, but Dean isn't about to complain. He smiles and slides his fingers in between Cas's.

His smile grows wider when Cas brings their joined hands up to his mouth and kisses the back of Dean's.

"You're welcome, by the way." Cas says, looking at Dean with a sparkle in his eyes. "Though it's not like it's exactly _torture_ for me to see that ass in those pants."

"And the moment's gone." Dean laughs and starts towards the team's bus up in the parking lot, pulling Cas along behind him. 

"Do you blame me though?" 

"Yes, I do." Dean laughs again. "Every game you comment on my ass."

"Do you blame me though?" Cas repeats with a smirk.

Dean ignores him. 

Cas's voice is full of tease when he says, "Oh, c'mon! You're gonna ignore me on our anniversary?"

Dean has to laugh at that, "I thought we said one month anniversary's are stupid."

Cas lets go of Dean's hand to shake his leather jacket off his shoulders. It's unusually hot tonight, and Cas's gray tee clings to his body. Dean doesn't mind.

"Whatever," he laughs and it makes Dean smile too. Then, "You riding back on that hunk of junk or do you wanna come with me?"

The "hunk of junk" is the old yellow school bus Dean's teammates are currently piling onto, equipment bags taking up practically all the leg room. Needless to say, Dean would _much_ rather go with Cas in his old Camaro. Buut, Carver High has some obnoxious rule that all athletes have to ride back to the school on the team bus after away games.

Dean frowns, "I can't I gotta ride with the team."

"Oh right, I forgot," Cas sighs.

They're at the parking lot now, the bus to the left and Cas's car to the right. Through the back window of the bus, Dean can see Garth and Benny laughing at something Ash had said. Coach Milton stands outside the bus, clipboard still in hand, waiting for Dean to make his way over.

"I wanted to talk to you about an idea I had," Cas continues, and Dean looks back at him curiously.

He starts to ask him about it but is interrupted by Garth's cheery voice shouting out the open bus window.

"Winchester! Tell your boyfriend 'hasta la vista' and get your ass over here, we want to go!"

Dean sticks his middle finger in the air at the voice without turning from Cas and hears Garth laugh behind him.

Dean sighs. He wants to go with Cas, he wants to talk with him and listen to music with him and watch the wind blow through his hair as he drives. He definitely does not want to ride on an old school bus full of sweaty, smelly teenage boys where music can't even be heard over the yelled conversations.

But Cas smiles at him, pulls him closer by the strap of his equipment bag, and kisses him softly.

"Hasta la vista. I'll call you." Cas says, and physically turns him around and gives him a push towards the bus.

"Nah," Dean says, turning back around to face Cas while he walks backwards. "Just come over."

It's not too late yet, only 7:30 by the clock on Dean's phone. Tomorrow's Friday anyway, it's not like much will be going on at school. Ellen and Bobby won't mind if Cas stops by for a bit. And if they do, oh well, Dean wants to see more of his boyfriend tonight.

Cas had grinned at Dean's suggestion. He digs his car keys out of his pocket and starts to walk backwards too, in the opposite direction.

"I can do that." He says, still smiling.

~:~:~:~

Dean collapses onto the living room couch practically as soon as he gets home, to Sam's annoyance, who had been quite comfortable before Dean had shoved his legs off the couch to make room for himself.

"Really, man? Sit in the arm chair," Sam grumbles as he shifts into a sitting position. The light from the TV shines multicolored on his face in the dimly lit room. It's a Dr. Sexy M.D. re-run, Dean's guilty pleasure.

"But that wouldn't have annoyed you enough little brother," he jokes, eyes on the screen where Dr. Sexy is towering over one of the hot female nurses as she stares up at him in admiration. This show is ridiculous, and Dean knows it, but that's not going to stop him from loving it more than he'd care to admit.

He stays and watches for a bit. He and Sammy fall into a comfortable silence, and as much as Dean loves bothering the hell out of his little bro, he loves the times when they simply sit and bond even more.

It used to be that Dean felt almost more like a father than a brother to Sam, back when their real father was still around. When their mom died and John couldn't handle _anything_ , Dean sort of had to take over. Sometimes Dean still does feel the need to be a "father figure" to Sam, but then he remembers Bobby. Bobby who raised them so, so well. Who keeps them warm and fed and safe and loves them as if they were truly his own. Dean is so thankful for everything Bobby has done for Sam, for him to of course, but mostly for Sam. He could've kept raising Sam if he had really needed to, but he's unbelievably glad that Sammy got to grow up the way he did.

Headlights flash through the curtains on the window and shine onto the quiet scene in the living room. Dean jerks his eyes from where he had zoned out at the TV screen. 

"Hey, Dean." Sam's voice cuts through his thoughts. "Someone just pulled into the driveway."

"Thanks, Sherlock."

He had nearly forgotten Cas was coming over. He probably should've mentioned something to his parents. Though actually he hasn't seen them since he got home.

"Hey, Sam," Dean says as he rolls off the couch and heads towards the door. "Where are Ellen and Bobby?" He hears Cas's car stop running outside on the drive.

"Oh they went over to Jody and Donna's for dinner." Sam answers without looking away from the TV.

Dean nods, then realizes Sam can't see him. But by then he can see Cas's silhouette coming up the porch steps through the thin curtain on the small window of the door. He wrenches the door open before Cas gets there. That's become a sort of habit with them.

"Hi." Dean grins at Cas as the boy steps up to him in the doorway.

Cas smiles and pulls Dean closer by the ratty black t-shirt he had thrown on with his faded jeans back in the locker room at the school.

"Hello, Dean." Cas kisses him, and they both smile into the kiss.

Dean steps backwards into the house and grabs Cas's hand to pull him in. Cas calls out a hello to Sammy, who turns his head towards them and nods in greeting, but Dean keeps pulling Cas past the living room and to the stairs. Cas chuckles as Dean practically drags him up the staircase and down the hall to his room.

When they enter, Cas immediately sprawls on Dean's unmade bed. He settles in like it's his own room, and Dean stops and stares at him for a second or two with his lips quirked in a tiny smile. Then he walks over to his dresser, where his iPod sits hooked up to speakers. He picks it up, unlocks it and starts browsing through his music.

Cas is watching him when Dean turns to face him. "What do you want?" He asks, gesturing with the iPod to indicate what he means.

Cas shrugs, "Something good." He smirks.

Dean rolls his eyes, "Thanks for your help." He switches to the Artists tab and scrolls down to the P's. He finds Pink Floyd and hits one of the songs. The haunting, relaxing sound of David Gilmour singing Comfortably Numb seeps out of the speakers as Dean slides onto the bed next to Cas.

He sits Indian style with his legs crossed and his back against the wall the side of his bed his pushed up against. Cas shifts onto his side and props his head on his hand so he can look at Dean.

"I approve." Cas laughs.

_Come on now, I hear you're feeling down. Well I can ease your pain. Get you on your feet again._

Dean smiles and leans his head back against the wall, eyes closed, absorbing the music. He feels Cas shift as the bed dips with his movement.

"You're beautiful." Cas murmurs.

Dean opens his eyes and it feels like Cas's stare is reaching his soul. "So are you."

"Maybe, but I'm trying to compliment you right now so shut the hell up."

Dean laughs and suddenly wants nothing but to kiss his boyfriend. So he does. Cas reaches his hands out towards him, and Dean meets him halfway. He untangles his legs and slings the left one over Cas's body, settling down on his lap. He leans down to kiss him again. Or at least he tries to.

The pattering of bare feet coming down the hallway and a throat being cleared at the doorway makes him pause inches away. He and Cas, caught in an...awkward...position, look up to see little blonde Jo with her arms crossed giving them the sternest look ever seen on a teenage girl. Dean practically flings himself off of Cas.

"Don't you _dare_ do it when I am right down the hallway, oh my _God_."

Cas starts laughing so hard he would've rolled off the bed if Dean hadn't grabbed him and hauled him back.

Dean is laughing too now, "Shit, I forgot you were home Jo." He pauses suddenly and shifts awkwardly. "Not...that we were going to...uh." He looks at Cas, who laughs even harder at Dean's discomfort.

"Riight." Jo says with a raised eyebrow. "Well, don't." She gives them once last suspicious look and turns tail back to her room.

The song is still playing it's last bit .

_When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse, out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look but it was gone, I cannot put my finger on it now. The child is grown, the dream is gone. I have become comfortably numb._

As it ends, Dean pokes Cas's side. "You hungry?" He asks. They've been upstairs for barely ten minutes but Dean is just now realizing he hasn't eaten a thing since his game ended and he is starved.

"I could eat." Cas says.

When they get down to the kitchen Cas sits himself down at the table while Dean starts rummaging around in the pantry. They can hear the movie Sam is watching in the other room. It's some action film with a lot of machine guns and yelling. It's an unnecessarily long fight scene with absolutely no words, and so no way for Dean to figure out what film it is by listening in. Not that he really cares that much. He's just got food on his mind. And Cas. But then, Cas is pretty much always on his mind.

"Ah ha!" He exclaims in victory when he finds what he was digging for. A pack of double stuf Oreo's he's buried way back in the pantry the week before. Someone had nicked a few. Probably Jo.

He hands Cas the package, and the boy immediately rips it open and pops an entire cookie in his mouth. Dean shakes his head in mock disgust.

"That's not how you eat Oreo's, Castiel. I'm disappointed in you." He gets out to plastic cups, sets them on the table, then pulls the milk out of the fridge. "Oreo's are the perfect cookies for milk."

Cas laughs, wiping cookie dust on his black jeans. "You're right, I should have known better."

Dean plops himself down and goes to town on his milk and Oreo's. The two of them sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, breaking it only with the sound of crunching and milk pouring.

Then Dean remembers what Cas had said back at the baseball field after Dean's game. That he had something he had wanted to talk about.

"Hey," Dean says, getting his cookie to balance on the edge of his cup, "What was that idea you had? That you said you wanted to talk about?"

Cas makes an "oh, yea" sort of sound and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He starts tapping away like he knows exactly what he's looking for.

"This." He puts his phone on the table facing Dean and slides it over so he can read it.

It's a brightly colored webpage with music notes and guitars all around the main title which reads, "Band Competition!" Then underneath, "Get Discovered and Make it Big."

He reads a little further. It looks like some sort of competition between bands for the chance to win big prizes, including the possibility of getting signed by a recording company.

 _"Cas,"_ Dean breathes out, _"Dude."_

"Dean, I know we just started our band and we don't even have a name yet and we've never performed anywhere but the competition isn't for another month and a half and even if we don't get the main prize we could still get something or someone might still notice us, this could be _great_." Cas takes a deep breath when he finishes. Dean rarely ever sees Cas show this much well, passion, about anything. He wants to see more.

He clicks on the tab for entry requirements and skims a bit. "How'd you find this?" He asks Cas.

Cas shrugs, "Adam and Michael's dad, Chuck. He knows about things like this. He sent me the link."

Dean nods, but doesn't say anything, he's still looking at the site. Cas watches him scroll for a bit and then shifts in his seat.

"So what do you think?" He sounds almost apprehensive. That's a weird tone to hear in Cas's voice.

"I think..." Dean pauses and looks up to meet Cas's eyes. "Why not? We should give it a try."

Castiel grins. "Really? Good, because I may have already mentioned it to the twins and they thought it was great."

Dean has to laugh at that, he's knows if he had told Cas no he probably would've ended up having to deal with all three of them teaming up to try and convince him otherwise.

Dean has a sudden thought, "What are we going to call our band though?"

Cas furrows his brow and cocks his head: his thinking face. "Pistols N' Daises," he laughs.

"Cute, but Axl Rose and the rest might not be too happy we ripped off their band's name." Dean snorts.

"The Dean Winchester Band."

"That's horrible no one would listen to a band called that."

"I would." Cas smirks and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at Dean.

"Shut up."

"Fine, how 'bout The Buses. Or Good Company. Or Loop Zooplin."

Dean cracks up, "What was that last one again?"

Cas sticks his tongue out at Dean and shoves another cookie in his mouth. The package is more than half gone already. Dean leans his elbow on the kitchen table and smushes his face into his hand, thinking hard. Cas is watching him intently now, his blue eyes are annoyingly distracting when one is trying to concentrate. All the cool names have already been taken. Or maybe his brain is just not feeling the creative vibe just then. He hears more gunfire coming from the TV in the living room. _The Bullets!_ No, that's dumb. _The_ Silver _Bullets!_ No, that exists already.

Outside a car pulls onto the driveway; Dean can hear the gravel crunch loudly underneath the tires. _The Cars!_ Damn it, never mind that one too. A car door slams shut out in front of the house. Cas sighs and leans back in his chair with his legs spread far out in front of him. Dean watches him as he starts spinning his empty plastic cup on its edge. Dean is suddenly hit by how beautiful Cas really is. He fights the urge to grab him and kiss him and tell him he wants to give him everything. A big house. An entire island. They can call it - wait that's it! Dean sits straight up in his chair, dropping his hand onto Cas's and stopping the spinning cup.

"I got it! Let's call it Pr-" He's interrupted by a sudden, sharp knock on the front door. That's odd, he had thought it was Ellen and Bobby pulling into the drive, why would they be knocking?

Dean looks over at Cas, who furrows his brow at him, and Dean shrugs in response. Cas is really the only random visitor they get here these days, and obviously it's not him. Dean pushes himself up from the table and heads towards the door where a dark silhouette is framed by the porch lights in the window. He glances into the living room as he passes and catches a glimpse of Liam Neeson on the screen of the TV. Sammy's feet stick out from the side of the couch, slung over the armrest.

"Hey, Sam is Jess or someone coming over?" He calls out as he reaches for the doorknob of the front door. "Nope" is the response his little brother yells out.

"Oh," Dean says, literally as he opens the door, "Then who-"

He stops dead. The words die in his throat, and it feel like the rest of him is following suit. His heart feels like it's stopped beating. He stares in shock at the last person he had ever expected to see on the front porch of his home. The man looking at him with sad, sunken eyes is wearing a light brown jacket with a dark collar over a blue plaid shirt, his hands are stuffed into the pockets of the jacket. Scuffed cowboy boots poke out from underneath a pair of frayed, well-worn blue jeans. He looks like a much older version of Sam.

Dean's heart starts up again, he draws himself up to his full height, finds his words and says, "So you're alive then."

"Hello, son." John Winchester says.


	11. The Cat's In the Cradle

Dean Winchester isn't in school the next day. And when Cas doesn't show up either, everyone figures they're together. They wouldn't be the first couple to skip a Friday of school just to spend a long weekend together. But Cas isn't with Dean. In fact, Cas can't even _find_ Dean. Neither can the rest of his family. They haven't seen him since the night before, when he had punched John Winchester straight in the jaw and stormed out of the house. The last thing they saw of him was the dust the Impala kicked up as he tore out of the driveway and away from the chaos behind him.

Dean doesn't want to be found. He doesn't want to talk to anyone, not even Cas. He doubts anyone could find him anyway, considering even he doesn't know where he is. The rolling fields whizzing by outside the car don't give him much to go on; practically all of South Dakota looks like that. He's been driving for hours, all night in fact, who knows how far he's gone. The only stop he made was to pull off on the side of the road when he finally passed a crop of trees so he could take a piss. That was four hours ago. The clock on his dying phone tells him it's now 9:03 a.m. His eyes are heavy and burning from staring at the highway all night and the only thing keeping him awake is the Metallica tape blaring out of the speakers. That and the boiling anger in his gut that just won't go away. 

"That son of a _bitch_." He says out loud, and slams his palm against the steering wheel. He's been saying that a lot the past six hours. It's like he can form no other coherent thought or sentence. John had pissed him off from the moment the asshole had opened his mouth, and it had only gotten worse from there. 

A sign outside his car blurs past, but he catches enough to know it said something about a rest stop ahead. For the next few miles he tries to keep the memories from the night before out of his head. Instead he focuses what little is left of his energy on looking for this rest stop.

James Hetfield's voice is screaming out of the speakers at full volume, yelling something about death and the devil and other fun things. Dean realizes that maybe, if he doesn't want to be so angry anymore, he should stop listening to such angry music. It was great when his little spontaneous road trip had begun, because going ninety down an empty highway while heavy metal is giving you a headache is a really great way to blow off some steam. But now his headache has built to an extreme and being this furious is just making his exhaustion rise.

He hits the button to turn off the music with a little more force than necessary and spots the green sign announcing "REST STOP HERE" with an arrow pointing down a tiny side road. He pulls off a little too abruptly for the speed he's going, and it's a good thing there were no cars behind him because he probably would've caused an accident.

He drives a ways, much slower than before, until he pulls into the parking lot of a tiny, little, red stone building. There's a tiny forest of trees behind it, with what looks like another road or driveway leading up through them. The place is not so much a rest stop as it is a gas station that happens to have a bathroom inside. There's only one working pump though, and it's old. He looks at his fuel gauge and realizes with a jolt that his tank is practically running on fumes.

"Idiot." He murmurs to himself, and pulls up to the pump. He hops out and starts to fill his tank. While the fuel is pumping, he looks around.

The doorway of the little building is framed by two of those fake Native American totem poles, and there's a mat on the ground that must have once read "Welcome" but now is so faded and dirty that the only part visible is "om," and that just barely too. There's a bench off to the right of the door, under one of the windows, and seated on it is an older man wearing a worn out, olive-green flannel with the sleeves rolled up, faded jeans, and no shoes. His dark gray hair reaches his shoulders and an impressive beard covers his face. Tattoos peak out from under his sleeves and he's shucking a bag of corn on the cob. Corn husks litter the bench and ground around him. Dean spares a second to wonder where he managed to find corn this early in the season and then shrugs it off.

Dean turns his attention away from the man and finishes up with his car. He opens the passenger side door and starts to dig around in the glove box for his emergency money stash, hoping that Sam hadn't raided it. He hadn't exactly thought to grab his wallet before running from the house in his old, faded jeans and a t-shirt. He finally finds a twenty and ten wadded up into a ball together and "aha's!" in triumph.

He nods to the man on the bench as he walks over the faded mat and inside to pay. The man inclines his chin in response. Inside, Dean realizes there's no one in there but a stuffed moose head staring at him from above the counter where the cash register sits untended. He figures now that the man outside must work here. He doesn't want to bother him, so instead of going outside to get him, Dean wanders the tiny building. It's like any other little gas station, with shelves of chips and candy and a fridge near the back with a really very pathetic selection of drinks. To his surprise, he spots a few beers way in the back. He's almost tempted to try and buy one but he figures the guy wouldn't go for that. Plus he's gotta drive home eventually right? Probably best to do that without a buzz.

Dean trails back to the front counter and notices a small stand by the door, full with jars of honey. A sign on it says it was harvested "by the owner himself!" He thinks of Cas. Cas likes bees. It's one of those odd things about him that no one would ever guess. Dean grabs a jar and puts it on the counter by the cash register just as the door to the place swings open. There's a dream catcher with bells woven into the strings that jingles as the man from outside walks in and goes to stand behind the counter. He's taller than Dean thought he'd be. Maybe that's because he'd put some shoes on.

"You ready to pay?" the man asks in a gruff voice. He's handsome for an older man, Dean has to admit, and his blue eyes make him think of Cas again.

Dean nods and hands over the thirty dollars crumpled in his hand. He cringes at the mess of the bills. "Sorry," he offers.

The stranger chuckles low in his throat. "Still worth the same amount of money," he says.

Dean nods again but can't bring himself to laugh. He tries a smile that doesn't quite make it. The man raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything.

Dean watches as the bearded man wraps the jar of honey in brown paper and ties it closed with twine. He notices that one of the tattoos on the guy's forearm isn't actually a tattoo like the others. It looks more like some odd scar or birth mark. He looks away from it when the guy hands him the packaged jar. This time he manages a friendly smile.

"Thank you very much," he says.

The man nods but says nothing. Dean clears his throat somewhat awkwardly and turns to leave. He pushes his way out of the door, making the dream catcher jingle, and steps out into the warm air. The days have been getting much hotter lately.

Instead of heading right towards his car, Dean finds himself stopping and staring off into the distance across the road. The air around him is still and every little sound seems to echo. He looks over acres and acres of grassy fields and can see where they start to rise into mountains. It's pretty. He wishes Cas was here with him. He appreciates things like this. The beauty of the world and such. He shouldn't have ran like he did. He left Cas and his family to deal with his asshole of a father completely alone. Granted, Cas had told him to go, but he should've fought back. Instead he just left. Just like John had left Sammy and him. _God,_ Dean drives his car, wears his jacket, and abandons his family just like he did. Is he becoming like his father?

Dean hears a jingle behind him and knows the corn-shucking guy is coming outside. He feels the man walk up behind him and he turns to meet his eyes. He thinks he sees concern in this stranger's eyes.

"You all right, son?" The man asks.

Son. _Son._  The last man who'd called him that, he had ended up punching in the face. Oddly, he doesn't mind it coming from this stranger who's name he doesn't even know.

Dean sighs and turns back towards the rolling fields. "No, I guess not."

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the man gesture towards the bench against the building. "I'll gladly listen if you feel like talking it out," the man offers.

Dean looks at him again, suddenly thoughtful. Why not? He's offering, and he doesn't seem the type to judge. He nods, and holds out his hand.

"I'm Dean."

The man grips his hand firmly. His hands are rough and calloused like Bobby's are. "Hello, Dean. My name is Cain."

Dean doesn't say anything, but he wonders why someone would name their child after a man who had supposedly killed his own brother. Then it occurs to him that maybe he had decided to go by Cain himself. But that's really none of Dean's business.

When Dean had settled down next to Cain on the bench, after brushing a few corn husks onto the ground, he stares at the man and narrows his eyes.

"Are you sure you really want to hear this?" He asks, "It's a complicated and long story and I can't imagine why you'd care."

Cain chuckles again, like he had before inside. "I don't get a lot of visitors here, Dean. I'm in the mood for a long story."

Dean nods and begins. "I guess it started out when my mom died. My dad couldn't handle it. He started drinking and gambling and stopped parenting. So my Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen - well actually they're not technically my Aunt and Uncle - anyway, they fought for custody of my brother and I until my Dad ended up basically handing us over. Then he disappeared. He was gone for so long without word that we assumed he was dead or had started a new life. Until he showed up on our doorstep last night..."

Dean looks into those blue eyes so full of concern and so much like Cas's and he finds himself drifting off into his own retelling. He sinks back into the memories of last night.

_"Hello, son." John Winchester says. He's got on a brown coat with a black fur collar and jeans so worn out that they're frayed near the heel of his huge boots. Under his coat he's wearing a blue flannel shirt over a t-shirt, much like what Dean wears. His face is unshaven and he looks dejected._

_Dean watches as John takes his right hand out of his jacket pocket like he's going for a handshake, but it drops to his side when he seems to think better of it. His eyes, too much like Sammy's, study Dean's face, searching for something._

Son _. Dean takes an abrupt step back. "No," he shakes his head. He had wondered for years if he would ever see his father again, and had constantly thought about the words he would say if he ever got the chance. Now though, he can't remember a single one._

_John looks confused. Dean notices his brown hair has a lot more gray in it than it had when he had left. Left Dean, left little Sam. He looks like he hasn't shaved in a few days either._

_Dean shakes his head again, harder this time. "You don't get to call me that," he says, venom in his voice. He's close to slamming the door in this man's face and calling it a night. But he wants too badly to know why John has chosen to show up now, after all these years. Or maybe it's some of the leftover obedience John had hammered into him coming back into play. He hates that thought as soon as it crosses his mind and shoves it way down._

Cain shifts next to Dean, who stops his story for a moment. "John was a marine," he says by way of further explanation, "he wanted tough sons and he wanted obedience." He starts back up.

_"Oh." John clears his throat in discomfort and reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. "Um is, uh, Sammy home?" He asks hesitantly._

"How dare you call him that," _Dean thinks to himself, his blood starting to boil. He clenches his left hand into fist and grips the edge of the front door tightly with the other._

_"Yes." He says, and nothing else. The TV is blaring loud enough in the other room that Sam probably hasn't heard a word of this exchange. Cas, on the other hand, must have heard something, because when Dean glances over his shoulder he sees his boyfriend coming out of the kitchen with an almost cold look on his face._

Dean stops talking again, and this time he's the one who shifts on the bench, but out of sudden discomfort and wariness. Cain didn't know that Dean is gay (well, bi), though how would he? But it's always an unpredictable process, telling someone this. Dean hadn't thought about  how Cain might react to the tidbit about Dean having a boyfriend until now. His wariness must show on his face when he looks at the man, because Cain smiles warmly and with assurance.

"I have an ex-husband, Dean. And an ex-wife, but that's besides the point." He says, and Dean has to laugh. He wasn't expecting that, but he's no longer worried. So, once again, he continues.

_John looks briefly at Cas walking up behind Dean but doesn't show much interest. "Can I see-" He starts to ask._

_"No." Dean interrupts, as calmly as he can. "You cannot." He folds his arms over his chest and glares at the man he had called his father. "Look," he says, "Either explain why the fuck you've dropped by out of the blue without so much of a 'hey, I'm alive' in seven god damn years, and it had better be a great explanation mind you, or get the hell off this porch."_

_Cas has reached his side by now and he puts a hand on Dean's shoulder for a moment before letting it drop off. "Everything okay over here?" He asks with a tone saying he knows full well it's not._

_Dean shakes his head for the third time already, his eyes don't leave John. "You know, not really." He says, his words so bitter he can practically taste them._

_John still ignores Cas. He's starting to seem close to angry. That never was a good emotion for John Winchester, and Dean would bet money that it still isn't._

_"Dean," John starts to say, until a pair of headlights from a car pulling onto the driveway shine up on the porch, making John pause and blinding Dean for a moment. It's dark, but he can still recognize Bobby's truck once he blinks the spots from his eyes. John turns and watches as the truck pulls up next to his own._

_The three of them at the door stand and watch as Bobby jumps from the driver's side of the truck, slams the door hard, and storms towards the house. Ellen comes around from the other side, hurrying after her husband, but she doesn't seem to understand why he's in so much of a fury. When she gets close enough to fully take in the scene in front of her she stops suddenly, then immediate picks up pace again, walking so fast she overtakes Bobby._

"You." _She points accusingly at John, who suddenly looks very worried as he stares at Ellen and Bobby. "_ Who _do you think you_ are, _coming here?" She's almost yelling._

_Bobby puts a hand on her arm to calm her down as he follows her up the steps. She doesn't say another word, but virtually shoves John out of the way entering the house. She stands in front of Dean with her arms crossed quite like a lioness protecting her cub, though she's so much shorter than Dean that it doesn't do much._

_Bobby takes a similar stance as he faces John. John is the taller man in height but in that moment it seemed as though Bobby towered over him._

_"John." Bobby inclines his head slightly._

_"How you been, Bobby." John says, discomfort showing strongly._

_"Great," Bobby says, "Which you would have known had you actually given a rat's ass and picked up the damn phone once or twice."_

_John hangs his head. Dean would swear he looked ashamed._

_He opens his mouth like he's about to say something but Ellen beats him to it._

_"We didn't even know if you were_ alive _." She's obviously pissed._

_Dean shifts closer to Cas and their shoulders press together, the touch gives him comfort. He looks over at Cas and sees the boy's eyes fixed on John with an icy stare. He hasn't seen him look at anyone like that since that thing with Azazael in the parking lot of the school a month back. He would hate to be the one that stare is directed at._

_Meanwhile, John is stuttering out something that might end up being an explanation. "I, uh, barely was," he says, "I mean I was but it wasn't exactly_ living _."_

_"What in hell does that mean?" Bobby spits out, clearly not happy with an explanation like that. Dean doesn't blame him._

John sighs and looks over at his son. He meets Dean's eyes until his gaze drops down to where his son's shoulder is pressed against the shoulder of this other boy he doesn't know. Dean can only imagine what John is thinking. Here's this strange boy with wild hair wearing black skinny jeans and eyeliner, standing closer to his son than most male friends would. Dean sees his eyes narrow in confusion, or maybe suspicion. Then the expression is gone and John is talking again.

_"I was a drunk," he starts, and Ellen scoffs. Dean almost laughs himself. They all knew he was a drunk, that's more than half the reason Ellen and Bobby got custody of Dean and his brother._

_John ignores her, "I mean, the worst kind of drunk. Worse than I ever was when I was here. Losing you, Dean, and Sammy was too much after Mary. I was never sober."_

_Dean cold demeanor doesn't warm. "Losing us was you're own fault, John."_

_John jerks, like Dean hit a nerve. Dean isn't sure if it was what he said that got to him, or the fact that he had called him John instead of Dad._

_"I know," John says, looking at Dean so intensely it almost starts to make him uncomfortable. " I know. There is so much I wish I hadn't done, and so much I wish I had. That's why I'm here now. I want to try to make up for what I did. I'm okay now. I sobered up, with some help. Going on four years now." He says the last part with a small smile, like he expects Dean to be proud of him, to praise him. But Dean just stares._

_John's smile falls away, and  he clears his throat uncomfortably. "Right, so, I - uh- started working again, saved up some money. I wanted to be able to provide for you when I came back."_

_"You haven't provided for him for the past seven years, John. And you barely provided for years before that." Ellen's voice is full of a fiery anger and it's no wonder why John takes a step back like he's afraid he'll be burned._

_"I know-"_

_"No, you_ don't _know!" Ellen yells, "You weren't here for puberty! You weren't here for countless baseball games! You weren't here for his or Sam's first love! You didn't wash their laundry or make them dinner or dry their tears when they had a broken hearts! You were_ never _here. You missed their childhoods, how dare you show up here and act like you actually care."_

_Dean had never loved Ellen more than he loved her in that moment. This woman would protect him even if it meant her life. But, Dean knows how John used to get when he was angry, and while he doesn't seem angry yet, Dean doesn't want Ellen to be the one he goes after. John may say that he's changed, but Dean suffered too many beatings when he was younger to believe the man now._

Cain inhales sharply at Dean's mention of his father beating him. Outrage flashes in his eyes, but Dean keeps going.

_Dean gently pulls Ellen out from in front of him. He thinks he glimpses hurt in John's eyes when he does this, like the man knows that Dean doesn't trust him, doesn't believe he's changed._

_Dean feels Cas's shoulder move against his own as the boy tries to take Ellen's place in front of Dean. Dean can almost feel how much Cas wants to protect him, but he won't let him. He grabs his boyfriend's forearm to stop him, and shakes his head slightly when Cas looks at him._

_Meanwhile, Bobby has calmed Ellen down and is now studying John._

_"Bobby, please," John practically begs. "We were friends. You know  who I was before."_

_"That don't mean squat now, John. You ain't that man anymore. You ain't been that man since Mary died."_

_Something that looks like panic begins to rise in John's eyes. He must have thought out of all of them, Bobby would be the one most likely to forgive. But, now that he knows even Bobby doesn't want to hear it he's afraid._

_He looks back to his son. "Dean-"_

_Then suddenly a voice breaks through from behind Dean, Cas, and Ellen, inside the house._

_"Dad?" Dean whips around and sees his little brother standing there, and for a moment he doesn't see Sam as the fourteen year old he is now. He sees him once again as the little boy who cried for days when his father had disappeared. Who couldn't understand what they meant when they told him "daddy has gone away, Sam."_

_Sam stands there in the hallway, looking like he's seen a ghost. In a way he has. John has essentially been dead to them for all this time. But Sam had been the one to hold on to the tiniest sliver of belief that John might come back. Dean knows he had just recently started to accept that John was never coming back. But now the asshole is standing on their front porch, and Dean is terrified for Sammy. He won't let him get hurt again, he won't let him build up his hopes just to have John tear him down like last time._

_Jo is coming up behind Sam, the two of them must have heard Ellen's yelling. Jo takes in the scene in front of her, Bobby's apprehension, her mother's anger, Cas's protective demeanor, Dean's fear, and Sam's disbelief. She automatically understands. She grabs Sam by the arm and urgently whispers something in his ear. He nods, but gently removes her hand. She stares in exasperation after her adoptive brother when he starts towards the door._

_Cas leaves Dean's side to make room for Sam, and goes to stand with Jo as she comes closer. Dean immediately misses his presence, it was a comfort to him._

_He moves towards Sam, just as Sam steps closer to him as well. It's a brotherly sort of thing, they move towards each other both to protect and for protection. It's a subconscious movement left over from the years when John was raising them._

_John has been staring at Sam in what looks almost like awe. His eyes glisten with tears._

_"_ Sam _," he breathes out, "you're so_ tall _."_

 _"Hi, Dad." Sam says, and holds his hand out for a handshake, a courtesy Dean had not_ _offered._

_John stares at his youngest son's hand for a moment before gripping it with enthusiasm. His eyes shine with happiness even at this small gesture of friendliness. It's not exactly a loving, welcoming hug, but it seems he'll take what he can get._

_Sam pulls his hand away and looks up at Dean, as if he's looking for guidance from his brother. But Dean isn't sure what to do. He doesn't know how to handle this. He never thought he'd have to know. All he knows is John shouldn't be here. It can only bring trouble, and trouble is the last thing they need._

_"John," Dean starts, "I think it's time you leave. There's a hotel in the town nearby. It's crappy, but you might find a nicer one if you head towards Sioux Falls."_

_He's trying to be kind, or if not kind, at least civil. He doesn't want to fight with this man. Verbally or otherwise. He looks at Bobby, wanting to know he's doing the right thing by sending John away, at least for the night. Bobby nods. He's doing the right thing._

_John seems to disagree. His voice is urgent and he takes a step towards Dean and the others. Bobby immediately steps towards him from the side and puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. John shakes him off, but stops. "But, Dean I wanted-"_

_Cas shoulders between Dean and Sam. "I believe he asked you to leave. This is not the time or place to have the kind of talk you're looking for._ _" His voice is calm._

 _John's eyes flash with resentment, and he no longer seems submissive and melancholy. "I'm sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all, "but who the_ hell _are you?"_

 _Dean is indignant. He raises his voice, "You might fucking know who he is if you ever gave a damn about my life,_ Dad _," he throws the last word in there like a dagger. "Don't speak to him like that when you don't even know him."_

_John puts his hands up like a request for a truce, "I'm sorry, I was out of line. I would like to know who your friend is Dean, I'd like to know about your life."_

_Dean inhales deeply, suddenly scared. This is it. He hadn't remembered until now that there was this tiny detail about him that would destroy John's every desire to know his son. Such a tiny little thing. And yet, to someone like John, it was huge. It meant everything. Dean liked boys. Dean was dating a boy. There was no way John would ever be accepting of that fact. He may have gotten over his drunkenness, and he may realize now how much damage he did to his sons, but such ingrained homophobia like John Winchester's can never fade in a man like him._

_Dean takes another deep breath._

_"Castiel is my boyfriend."_

_He lets the breath go, and suddenly Cas's arm is around his waist, like Cas knew he needed the support._

_John snorts out a laugh. He thinks this is a joke. Then he looks at the faces looking back at him and realizes it isn't it, and Dean can see something snap inside those brown eyes. The true color of his soul begins to show and there is nothing there but blackness._

_John's lip curls up in disgust and Dean is suddenly very afraid for the safety of the people around him, particularly Cas. He doesn't care about his own safety, why should he when Cas is potentially in danger?_

_"_ BOYFRIEND? _"  John spits out, and then rounds on Bobby and Ellen. "You raised my son to be a god damn pansy?"_

_Everyone seems to move at once. Dean and Cas both reach to push Sam back behind them, while Ellen grabs him and her daughter and tugs them deeper into the front hallway. Bobby throws out an arm that blocks Cas from flat-out jumping John right then. He steps towards John and puts a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down._

_"John, you don't understand. There's nothing wrong with him, he was born-"_

_"Nothing wrong with him?" John sounds incredulous. He's staring at Dean like he doesn't even recognize him as his son anymore and the only time Dean felt worse than he does right now was when they told him his mother was dead. His father is broken. And the saddest part about it is, he believes that Dean is the broken one. He believes that Dean is an abomination._

_It takes nearly all of his self-control, and Cas whispering "you're okay, it's okay, you'll be fine" in his ear, to keep him from breaking down on the spot._

_John's hands are clenched with rage as he utters, "He's a damn fagg-"_

_Suddenly Cas's arm is gone from Dean's waist, and his reassuring whispers fade from Dean's ears as he gets right in John's face, jabs an accusing finger into his chest and says, voice low and threatening, "Finish that word, I fucking dare you."_

_Dean reaches out a hand to pull Cas back towards him, into his arms, away from his father. He had seen the fist rising before Cas did, and manages to yank him away fast enough that the blow misses him. At that, Dean cracks. Attacking Cas is the last straw. He knows Cas can defend himself, but right now he doesn't care at all. He throws himself between his boyfriend and the man who will never be a father to him. He barely thinks, he just moves. A jolt of pain shoots up his hand when it connects with John's jaw, but the pain is nothing compared to his anger._

_How_ dare _this man show up after seven years and beg for forgiveness. How dare he claim that he has changed, that he is_ better _now. Who is he to treat Dean like this solely because of who he loves, when the man doesn't even know_ how _to love. How dare he try to hurt Cas._

_Dean throws another punch, and John hits the ground. Dean finds himself on top of him, punching whatever he can hit. Each punch is retribution._

"I hit him so hard, Cain." Dean feels like he might cry in front of this stranger,  "I wanted him to hurt. Like he hurt Sammy. Like he hurt me. I hit him for all the times he hit me, and all the times he hit my little brother because I wasn't there to protect  him. I hit him for trying to hurt Cas, and for what he said to Ellen and Bobby. I hit him for becoming a drunk, and for letting my mother's death destroy our family. God, I hit him just because I wanted to. Because I thought he deserved it."

Cain nods his head. He puts a hand on the back of Dean's neck and looks into the boy's tear-filled green eyes. "I understand, son. And he did deserve it. He did."

Dean nods.

_Dean's fist stops in mid air when Cas's vice-like grip closes around his arm. His arms wind around his waist again, but this time it's because he's pulling Dean off his bloodied father. John is moaning on the ground, and spitting blood out of his mouth onto the wooden porch._

_Cas shoves Dean towards the steps of the porch, "Go, Dean! Get out of here! You need to get out!"_ _He knows that Dean won't calm down until he's as far from John as he can get._

 _Dean listens to him. He spins on his heel, jumps off the porch, and sprints towards his car. He yanks the spare key out from the underneath of the Impala, where it was tied with spare wire, and starts the engine. On the porch, Bobby and Cas are trying to get John to stop struggling, to calm down, so they can help him. Dean can hear Sammy calling his name._ _He almost turns back and goes to his little brother. Almost._

_He peels out of the driveway as fast as he can and turns right without any idea of where the hell he's going to go._

"Then I ended up here somehow," Dean finishes, "I drove all night. I'm not even sure where here is, but I'm sure I can't face any of them again." Them being is family. 

Cain sighs, "'Here' is the middle of nowhere. But it's my home. And Dean, I know right now things seem like a mess right now, like something has broken and can't be fixed, but it's just not true. I've dealt with my fair share of family related issues, I'll tell you that, and they all ended up fine in the end. But for it to end that way, you have to start by going back." Dean interrupts him with a loud sigh, and he smiles. "I know. But you have to go back. You need to apologize to Ellen and Bobby for running out, and you need to talk things out with your father. Try to help him understand. He wanted to know, I'm sure that desire is still in there somewhere. You're his son."

Dean nods his head, but doesn't know what to say.

Cain  puts a hand on top of Dean's, where it's resting on his thigh. "Dean, you're welcome to rest a bit at my home if you wish. I live up there." He points towards the treeline, where the road that must be a driveway winds through it. "You can shower too, if you want." He adds as an afterthought.

Dean laughs. He feels comfortable with this man. Like he's connected to him. Like him pulling into this rest stop wasn't a coincidence or accident. He may be a stranger still, but Dean trusts him. 

"I just told you practically my entire life story, and that I went mental and punched the shit out of my father, and now you're offering me advice, a place to sleep, and a warm shower?" He stares at the gray-haired man in disbelief.

Cain smiles at him softly. "You remind me of a younger me, Dean. And I wish someone had shown me a simple kindness like the offer of a warm bed when I was your age. My life may have turned out differently."

Dean decides to take him up on that offer.

Cain's house was larger than Dean has expected, and very nice. There were bee hives set up off to the side, and a beekeeper's veil hung from a hook beside the door. They had passed through a beautiful kitchen on the way to the spare bedroom. Ellen would've like it. Hell, Dean liked it. 

The room itself was all blue and white, down to the curtains and the picture frames on the dresser. One frame holds a faded picture of a handsome man with shaggy brown hair. He's wearing a yellow t-shirt and brown bell-bottoms and he's laughing. Another picture shows a much younger Cain, with his arm slung around the shoulders of a pretty brunette. The dresser has a thin layer of dust, like nothing on it had been touched for quite a while.

Cain clears his throat and Dean looks away from the photographs. "The bathroom is down the hall and on the left. If you leave your clothes outside the door I'll, uh, wash them for you real quick."

Dean barely manages to stop himself from staring in awe at the older man. How can anyone be this kind to a stranger?

"You don't have to do that!" Dean exclaims.

"I know." Cain says simply. Then, "Towels and extra soap are in the cabinet under the sink." He smiles kindly, not exactly a happy smile, but it makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. Then he turns and leaves, leaving the door open behind him.

Dean finds everything he needs exactly where Cain said it would be, then piles his dirty clothes on the floor outside the bathroom. He makes the water hotter than he needs to, the sting of it against his skin is satisfying. It makes him feel as though he's washing more than just dirt and sweat away.

Just as he steps out of the shower and starts to dry off, there's a knock on the door. He makes one last swipe with the towel over his hair and wraps it around his waist, then reaches for the doorknob.

Cain is already talking when Dean opens the door, saying, "Dean your clothes are out he- oh." He stops abruptly, like he wasn't expecting Dean to open the door.

Steam drifts out from behind Dean as he looks up at Cain, whose eyes drop briefly down to his bare chest before snapping quickly back up.

Dean smiles to himself. He remembers how he was half naked the first time he met Cas too.

 _Am I destined to always end up in only a towel every time I meet a stranger?_ He thinks humorously. Granted, this stranger had at least already seen him fully clothed. And it was his fault for opening the door without thinking about the fact that he was only half covered.

Cain, meanwhile, shifts on his feet and huffs out an awkward laugh. He's got Dean's clothes folded neatly in his hands, with one hand resting on top.

Dean reaches out and places his own hand on top of Cain's for a moment, then stretches out the other and takes the clothes with a smile up at him. They're warm, like they were just taken out of the dryer.

"Thank you," Dean says sincerely, and with a little bit of force because he wants Cain to know he really means it.

The man nods and runs a hand through his long hair. "Rest as long as you need," is all he says before walking away down the hall.

Dean watches him go, though he's not entirely sure why he does. Then he dresses and heads back to the spare room.

He strips off his jeans when he gets there, having figured he shouldn't walk through this man-who's-not-his-boyfriend's house in his underwear. When he's wearing just his boxers he finally settles into the soft, fluffy bed. He's asleep seconds after his head hits the pillow, his wet hair soaking the pillow.

When he wakes up, the midday sun is shining brightly through the semi-open blinds and the sound of soft music is seeping underneath the door. It sounds a little like Cat's In the Cradle and Dean almost wants to laugh.

"When you coming home, Dad? I don't know when." Dean mutters the lyrics sleepily into one of the pillows.

There's a soft breeze coming in through the window. Cain must have come in and opened it at some point. Dean watches as the warm air makes the white curtains billow out and he doesn't want to move. He wants to stay here in this soft bed, in a blue and white room, in a secluded house somewhere in South Dakota, listening to the quiet sounds of soft rock music for the rest of his days. He would've seriously considered doing that too if it weren't for Cas. If he's going to stay in one place forever, he wants Cas to be there too.

So, he drags himself out of the bed, throws his faded jeans back on, runs a hand through his short hair, and leaves the room behind him.

Cain is sitting at the kitchen table in an old cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He's stirring a mug of coffee with one hand and holding a book down with the other. An old-record player is set up on one of the counters and a vinyl is spinning steadily on it. 

"What are you reading?" Dean asks, and Cain jerks his head up in surprise. Obviously he hadn't known Dean was there.

Cain closes the book gently and turns towards Dean. "Emerson. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes." Dean nods and shifts his feet, suddenly uncomfortable. Or maybe nervous. "Thank you."

Cain stands. "Of course, Dean." He holds out his hand and Dean takes the few steps towards him to shake it.

Cain clears his throat and smiles a sad smile. "The young man in me wants to ask you to stay. But I know you'll probably want to be getting back to that boyfriend of yours." He rubs a hand on the back of his neck.

Dean looks at the older man thoughtfully. _He likes me_ , he realizes with a jolt. Then he finds himself thinking that if it weren't for "that boyfriend of his" he might actually want to stay here with Cain. He can't though. He's got a boyfriend he cares about and a fuck-ton of family issues waiting for him six hours away.

Dean squeezes Cain's hand affectionately. "I'll come visit you," he promises, and he means it.

Cain nods, but he doesn't seem to believe that he'll see Dean again. But, he leans forward and presses his lips lightly on Dean's forehead, and finally lets go of Dean's hand after one final squeeze.

"Drive safely, Dean. Tell your boyfriend you love him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just went in a completely different direction than I thought I was going to take it, and it went twice as long as I meant it to. I wasn't even planning on Cain being in this story. Also, please don't be wierded out by the Cain thing, it's not meant to be creepy lol.
> 
> I know this chapter is a bit darker than the rest of the story, but that's because I decided to write John as an abusive father. That's some dark shit.
> 
> Also, I made it a flash back sort of thing because I didn't feel like taking up an entire chapter with just that scene. And so Dean could be a bit of a drama queen.
> 
> x Angie


	12. I Don't Want to Miss a Thing

It's 4:32 p.m. when Dean starts the drive back home. When he pulls the Impala back onto the long stretch of South Dakota road and away from the rest stop, it's almost with a heavy heart. He doesn't want to leave Cain here alone. It feels like he's deserting him. Albeit, Cain has probably been alone awhile, not that that makes Dean feel any better. Actually, it makes him feel worse. He wishes there was someone there to keep Cain company. He wishes he had given Cain some advice in return for the advice he received. But what would he have said? Don't give up on love? That he may be unavailable (also, a little young), but there's always someone else out there? None of that even makes sense when Dean takes into consideration the fact that he knows literally nothing about Cain or his history. All he knows is that the man is lonely. He could see that etched across his face when he had shaken Dean's hand in farewell.

Dean sighs and shakes his head, fingers tapping anxiously on the steering wheel. He _will_ go back and visit Cain again. No way is he backing out on that promise, even if the guy doesn't believe he will come. 

Dean drives in silence for a while, staring out at the endless stretch of road in front of him surrounded by grassy fields that seem to be even more endless, if that's at all possible. Eventually, he leans over to the box of cassette tapes on the passenger's side, keeping his head high enough that he can watch the road and dig at the same time. His fingers fumble blindly until he grabs a random tape and shoves it in the stereo without bothering to take a moment and glance at what it is. He doesn't really care.

A few seconds later, Robert Plant's voice seeps out of the speakers and Dean feels his body physically relax. He sinks lower on the leather seat and his hands slide down to the bottom of the steering wheel as Stairway to Heaven begins to play. 

_There's a lady who's sure, all that glitters is gold, and she's buying a stairway to heaven._

Zeppelin's music is better than therapy. Cas said that once, a few weeks ago. They had found this big, old truck in Bobby's salvage yard and were laying in the bed of it. It was hard and uncomfortable but Dean hadn't cared because his head was on Cas's chest and Cas's fingers were running through his hair. They had somehow gotten on the topic of Cas's dad again, and Dean asked if he had ever talked to someone about how he had been feeling. Someone other than his mother. Cas had laughed and said, "No, I had music. And Zeppelin is better than therapy."

He had been joking, but Dean feels truth in that statement now. Stairway to Heaven was a soothing song. The quietness of it, the delivery of the lyrics. It makes him feel at peace.

He realizes then, three quarters of the way through the song, that Cas makes him feel at peace too. Cas makes him feel the same way music does. That's significant, he knows it. Dean sucks at emotions and all that feelings crap but even he can figure out what this means.

When he runs his hands through Cas's hair, he feels like he does when Led Zeppelin plays. When Cas pushes him against a wall and kisses him fiercely, he feels a fire in his bones and in his soul like he does when he drives on the open highway with Metallica blaring. And _God_ , when Cas wraps him tightly in his arms, sheltering him in them as if those wings tattooed across his back and shoulders are real and the wall of feathers can shield Dean from the rest of the world, it feels like every classic rock love song ever written crammed into one.

Is this what it feels like to be in love? It must be.

A sudden burst of ecstasy bubbles up and overflows within him, and he laughs out loud. He loves Cas. No, he's _in love with_ Cas. It should've been completely obvious but, again, emotions and feelings crap? Still not his thing. Dean chuckles again, staring out at the road ahead of him and shaking his head.

_"Winchester, you moron,"_ He thinks. _"You're probably the only one who didn't realize this."_

Ellen must know, she seems to know everything. She knew he was bi before he even did. And Sam. He was an intelligent, observant little fucker. Christ, Cain even knew! What had he said? "Tell your boyfriend you love him." The man had known him all of seven hours and he knew something Dean himself was too much of a dumb-ass to realize.

He's never missed Cas as much as he does at that moment. He reaches over to the passenger's seat and grabs his cell phone from where it had been laying since he threw it there before even getting out to pump the gas earlier that day. Next to it is the bottle of Cain's honey, all wrapped up in the brown paper. He pushes the home button on his phone, glances away from the road to look at it, and realizes it's dead.

_"Moron,"_ He thinks again. He can only imagine how panicked his family must be right now, while he's been off having life discussions with a bee-keeping, corn-shucking, bearded man and revelations about the apparent love of his life. And he let his phone die on top of all that. 

He tosses the phone back onto the seat and guns the engine. It's time he got back home, back to Cas, back to his family. And, oh yea, the father he beat the shit out of. Right.

-:-:-:-:-

When he pulls into Cas's driveway it's ten at night. The porch light hung next to the blue front door is the only thing illuminating the vast darkness once Dean shuts off his headlights. He walks up to the front door and is seconds from knocking before he hesitates and drops his hand. It's late. Grace is a nurse. He shouldn't wake her up, she doesn't get a lot of rest.

He remembers the tree that sits right next to the house on the right side, and how close its branches are to Cas's bedroom window. He takes a few steps to that side, intending on climbing the tree and knocking on the window, and adamantly ignoring the cliche-ness of it all. Before he takes even five steps though, he hears the door open behind him and turns in surprise.

Cas stands in the doorway in ripped blue jeans and a black t-shirt. The eyeliner he wears is day-old and smudged, and he's somehow managing to look both furious and relieved at the same time.

Dean looks abashedly up at his boyfriend from below the porch and smiles an anxious smile. "Hi," he says simply, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

"Hey, asshole." Cas crosses his arms and gives him a look so stern it has Dean wondering if Ellen has been giving him lessons. "Glad to see you're alive."

Dean cringes. He had said something scarily similar to John just a day before. He takes his hands out of his pockets and trudges up the porch stairs. He stops a few feet away from Cas, unsure how the next few moments are going to go.

He starts to explain, "I-"

Cas shakes his head, "I don't care." Then he reaches a hand out for Dean to come to him. Dean obliges, and Cas pulls him down into a soft hug, one full of a tenderness that he very rarely shows. "You're back. That's all that matters."

He lets Dean go but immediately gives him a shove hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps. Dean looks at him in confusion.

"But you could've _called_ , Dean. _Jesus_ , your family is so worried about you. _I_ was worried about you." The stern look is back.

Dean groans, "My phone died, Cas, I couldn't call. And then I didn't even think to ask Cain if I could borrow his and-"

"Wait, hold up," Cas holds up a hand to stop him, "Cain? Who is -- whatever, never mind, tell me later." He turns abruptly on his heel and walks back into the little house, beckoning with one hand for Dean to follow him. "You need to call your family. I'll let you use my phone. Plus you look exhausted, so story time can wait."

Ten minutes later, Dean is hanging up the phone after letting his family know he's fine. Seven out of those ten minutes were spent listening to Ellen's tirade about how he's such a responsible young man and he should know better than to take off with no calls or anything and blah blah blah. Bobby took the other three minutes, with Jo and Sam chiming in in the background, to tell Dean that he would've done the exact same thing and that he was glad to see that Dean had actually been listening when Bobby had taught him how to throw a punch.

Dean hands the cellphone back to Cas, who had been leaning against the kitchen counter watching him talk the whole time.

"So John is in the hospital?" Dean asks as Cas takes the phone. Ellen had taken a brief reprieve from her speech to mention John, though she hadn't said much.

Cas taps the edge of his phone against the palm of his left hand and nods, then cocks his head and says, "Well, he _was_ there. He's probably not anymore. You didn't bust him up _that_ badly. I think he had a minor concussion, but Bobby and I didn't really stick around long after we made sure he was gonna be okay. I'm sure he left the hospital before morning." 

Dean nods. He doesn't really know what to say. The man is his father, and yet Dean no longer feels a connection to him. He had stopped considering him a father years ago.

Dean sighs, and rubs a hand over his face. The long drive home had drained him almost completely of his energy and now that most of his worry about his family had left him too, he was ready to crash. He should leave now if he wants to get home without falling asleep behind the wheel.

Cas seems to read his mind. He grabs Dean by the hand and starts to pull him to the stairs. "You're staying here," he says. "There's no way I'm letting you drive all the way home like this."

Dean starts to halfheartedly protest. "What about Gabe and your mom? I don't want to intrude."

Cas groans, "They're not even here. Gabe is working at the bar all night and mom is out for drinks with some friends. Besides, they wouldn't care even if they were here. So shut the hell up and get your ass up those stairs." He pushes Dean lightly towards them to emphasize his words.

When Cas flips the light on in his bedroom and Dean sees the bed, he's pretty sure he's never seen such a welcoming sight. Especially when Cas plops down on it and starts to dig around on the floor between the bed and his nightstand. Cas and beds are a nice combination. _God_ , Dean gets punchy when he's tired.

Suddenly, Cas straightens and holds his hand up in triumph. He's holding a phone charger. "Here," he thrusts it at Dean, "Charge your phone."

Dean chuckles and takes it, then heads over to an outlet by Cas's wooden dresser and plugs in his phone. Cas follows him to the dresser and starts to rifle through it, screwing up the piles of nicely folded clothes as he goes. Dean sets his phone down and watches Cas as he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and two t-shirts. 

Cas shoves the sweatpants and one of the two shirts at Dean and says, "Here. You can change into these." 

But, Dean is so tired that he takes the clothes and immediately flops face down on Cas's bed. "That's just too much work, Cas," he says, the comforter muffling his words. He hears Cas snort and turns his head at a very odd and very uncomfortable angle to look up at him. From his sideways point of view he watches Cas grab the hem of his own t-shirt and pull it up and over his head. He flings it off towards the hamper sitting in the corner, where it hits the side and flops to the floor.

Dean stares at his boyfriend's naked torso and lets out an appreciative hum. "Niiiice," he says, his voice slurred with exhaustion.

Cas folds his arms over his chest and shakes his head at Dean. "Jesus, Winchester. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were drunk."

"Sleep-drunk." Dean mumbles, then laughs.

"Okay that's it," Cas snaps his fingers at Dean, "Pants off."

Dean lets out a very unattractive snort and pushes himself up into a sitting position. "Novak if you want me naked all you have to do is tell me." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and Castiel cracks up.

"Put your arms up," he orders, still smiling, and Dean obeys. "It's a good thing I didn't let you drive home," Cas says softly, almost too softly for Dean to hear. Then louder, "You would've fallen asleep behind the wheel and then who would be our lead singer?" He smirks.  

Cas grabs the hem of Dean's shirt and pulls it over Dean's raised arms. As he turns to toss it over the top of his dresser, Dean drops his hands down to his lap and fumbles with the button of his pants. His hands are heavy and his fingers are slow with exhaustion. Cas watches him struggle for a few moments, laughter in his blue eyes.

"Shuddup," Dean mumbles, without Cas ever saying anything, "I can do it." He leans back until his back is pressed against the bed and lifts his hips up, as if moving is entire body is going to make the button cooperate.

He hears Cas inhale sharply but his tired brain doesn't think much of it. Then, Cas is smacking his hands out of the way and quickly and deftly undoing both the button and the zipper.

"I was getting second-hand embarrassment from that." Cas shrugs, "I should start making a list of 'Ridiculous Things Dean Winchester Does.' Number one: gets so tired he can't undo his own jeans. Needs to be undressed like a toddler."

"Fuck you, Novak." Dean once again drags himself up into a sitting position and glares up at Cas with heavy eyes. 

"Are you sure you're up for that? You seem a bit tired," Cas snarks.

Dean groans and rolls his eyes so hard it almost hurts. He stands up and tries to shimmy out of his jeans while looking all around the floor for the t-shirt Cas had given him.

"They're on the bed, dumbass," Cas says, unbuttoning his own jeans. Speaking of those jeans, they're blue and they're boot-cut. Dean's never seen him wear jeans that weren't black or skinny at least. Maybe he'll mention it when he's less tired. Though it's more likely he'll forget all about it.

Sure enough, both the t-shirt and the sweatpants are laying on the bed right where Dean had just been. He'd been on top of them the whole time. He grabs the shirt and pulls it roughly over his head, realizes it's on backwards, and takes it off again. He frowns at it for a moment and tries again. When he's finally got it on right, he looks down at the logo etched across the gray tie-dyed material. AC/DC, written in red block letters. It's a little bit big; it must've been a hand-me-down from someone bigger than he and Cas. 

Cas, meanwhile, has stripped down to just his boxers and thrown on a soft-looking cotton t-shirt over them. When Dean looks up, he's trailing out of the bedroom. Dean furrows his brow and follows after him like a curious puppy.

Halfway down the hallway Cas looks over his shoulder and laughs, seeing Dean behind him.

"You really do turn into a giant toddler when you're tired." He says, turning into a doorway on the left and flipping on the light.

Dean leans against the doorway of what turns out to be the bathroom. Of course it's the bathroom, that just makes sense. He doesn't know where he thought Cas might have been going when he started following.

Dean watches Cas bend down and dig through the cabinet under the sink for something. Okay maybe he's not "watching Cas", per se, more like staring at his ass. It's really too bad he's not awake enough to fully appreciate the view.

Cas straightens and thrusts a spare toothbrush at Dean and says, "Stop staring at my ass and brush your teeth." 

He grabs his own toothbrush and squeezes a dollop of toothpaste onto it before handing the tube to Dean, who's grinning because he's realizing how embarrassingly domestic they're being. Well, not embarrassing for _him_ , but he knows Cas would most certainly not be like this if his big brother was in the house. Or even his mother.

Dean watches Cas stick his toothbrush, toothpaste on top, underneath the faucet and wet it. He scoffs. "Despicable, Castiel. Who the Hell wets the brush _after_ putting the toothpaste on?"

Cas rolls his eyes and mumbles around the toothbrush now hanging out of his mouth, "You have no room to judge, Mr. I-Cant-Take-My-Pants-Off."

"That's a mouthful," Dean says, making a show of running water over the bristles of the spare toothbrush _before_ the toothpaste.

"So am I." Cas winks, though the flirtiness of it is somewhat ruined by the glob of foamy toothpaste that plops out of his mouth and into the sink.

The two boys spend the next ten minutes or so goofing around and making fun of each other until Dean's exhaustion gets the better of him and he can barely keep his eyes open, no matter how much he wishes he could keep staring at Cas's smiling face.

"Okay c'mon Toddler Dean, time for bed." Cas grabs his arm and drags him back to the bedroom, where he literally shoves Dean onto the bed and hits the light switch, so the only light in the room comes from the moonlight shining through the blinds. This whole situation would have been quite exciting if Dean actually had the energy to appreciate it.

Dean splays stomach down on the bed while Cas yanks the covers out from under his body and tugs them over him instead. Dean hears Castiel walk lightly across the carpeted floor and pause. His footsteps back to the bed are masked by the sound of soft music drifting throughout the room.

Dean sighs contentedly as the music washes over him and Cas slides into the bed beside him. Music and Cas, two of his favorite things. Not counting baseball and pie obviously.

Cas wraps an arm around Dean's waist and tugs a bit until Dean flips on his side and snuggles up with his back to his boyfriend. Cas's breath is warm against the back of Dean's neck, and he doesn't even care that he's ended up as the little spoon because Cas has begun to sing quietly along with the music. 

_I could spend my life in this sweet surrender, I could stay lost in this moment forever. Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure._

_Don't wanna close my eyes, I don't wanna fall asleep, 'Cause I'd miss you, baby and I don't wanna miss a thing..._

Dean could almost laugh if he wasn't so damn worn out. A gleeful, ecstatic laugh of course. He picked this song on purpose, there's no way he didn't.

_.... Lying close to you feeling your heart beating, and I'm wondering what you're dreaming, wondering if it's me you're seeing._

Dean wants to turn his head and kiss Cas with everything he's got but he can't, he can't because his body is slipping into a much needed deep sleep and there's nothing he can do about it.

In his last bit of consciousness Dean hears Cas's low singing trail off and then the softest of whispers graces his ears. "I love you," it says.

And _God_ , Dean wants nothing  more than to climb the highest mountain top and scream those words back to him but it's too late! He's slipping deep into the dream world. And Cas shouldn't wonder anymore because it _is_ him Dean sees, he's all he ever sees.


End file.
